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COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  ORIENTAL  STUDIES 

Vol.  IX 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF 


ODEKN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 


1850-1912 


1: 


BY 


ABRAHAM   SOLOMON   WALDSTEIN 


I 


Submitted  in  Partial  Fulfilment  of  the  Requirements  for 

THE  Degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  in  the  Faculty 

of  Philosophy,  Columbia  University 


Nfto  York 
COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

1916 


\ 


■Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

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MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

SALES  AGENTS 

New  York  : 
LEMCKE  &  BUECHNER 
30-32  West  27th  Street 

London : 
HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

Amen  Corner,  E.G. 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  ORIENTAL  STUDIES 

Vol.  IX 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF 

MODEEN  HEBEEW  LITEEATURE 

1850-1912 


BY 

ABRAHAM   SOLOMON  WALDSTEIN 


Submitted  in  Partial  Fulfilment  of  the  Requirements  for 

THE  Degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  in  the  Faculty 

OF  Philosophy,  Columbia  University 


•  >  'j  •  • '    '         •  ^  . . 

•  ■••,•  J  '. '         •   ' .  • 

J  •  »  •  * 


Neto  York 
COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

1916 


Copyright,  1916 
By  Columbia  University  Press 


Printed  from  type  February,  1916 


PRESS   OF 

THE   NEW   ERA    PRINTING   COMPANY 

LANCASTER.    PA. 


'  J 


PREFACE 

In  writing  this  book,  I  have  had  in  view  not  so  much  the 
appreciation  of  the  individual  authors  and  their  productions  per 
se,  as  their  relation  to  the  period  in  which  they  lived,  the  ideas 
and  emotions  by  which  they  were,  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
actuated,  and  what  they  contributed,  as  individuals  or  as  a 
class,  to  the  development  of  Hebrew  literature.  In  short,  I  pur- 
pose to  give  here  the  evolution  of  the  latter  rather  than  its 
history,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  term.  This  mode  of  treat- 
ment has  been  more  and  more  pursued  by  literary  historians 
since  Taine;  and  should,  in  particular,  be  followed  by  any  one 
that  writes  for  a  reading  public  to  whom  the  literature  treated 
is  entirely  foreign.  Readers  such  as  these  are  certainly  more 
interested  in  the  trend  of  thought,  in  the  flux  and  flow  of  ideas, 
and  in  the  artistic  temperament  of  the  period  as  a  whole  and  in 
the  literature  as  a  whole,  than  in  any  particular  writer.  Hence, 
some  authors,  who  would  otherwise  deserve  a  fuller  treatment, 
have  been  dealt  with  rather  summarily.  For  though  as  indi- 
vidual writers  they  may  be  of  very  high  standing,  yet  their 
contribution  to  the  development  of  Hebrew  literature  may  have 
been  less  marked  than  that  of  other  writers  of  inferior  talent, 
who  have,  nevertheless,  formed  links  in  the  chain  of  this  develop- 
ment, and  who  have  consequently  been  treated  more  fully. 

I  have  selected  as  my  subject  the  period  between  the  fifties  of 
the  last  century  and  our  own  time,  and  I  did  not  go  back  to  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  which  is  generally  considered 
the  terminus  a  quo  of  modern  Hebrew  literature,  for  the  following 
reason.  As  I  am  here  dealing  mainly  with  belles-lettres  and 
allied  branches,  I  could  have  found  very  little  scope  in  the 
literature  of  the  hundred  years  preceding  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  The  novel  in  Hebrew  had  not  yet  been  pro- 
duced.    In  the  domain  of  poetry,  the  only  productions  of  the 

333617 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

period  that  can  stand  critical  examination  are :  some  lyrical  out- 
bursts in  the  dramas  of  M.  H.  Luzzatto,  a  small  number  of 
poems  by  Wessely,  Sh.  Cohen,  Letteris,  Adam  Lebensohn,  and 
some  other  stray  verse,  representing  in  all  perhaps  one  medium- 
sized  volume.  Moreover,  with  the  exception  of  some  passages 
in  the  scientific  "letters"  of  S.  D.  Luzzatto,  the  prose  of  the 
period  did  not  even  present  what  one  may  call  literary  tempera- 
ment. The  spirit  of  the  time,  particularly  that  of  the  first  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  was  scientific,  the  writers  centering 
their  efforts  mainly  on  historic  research;  and  only  in  this  field  did 
Hebrew  literature  show  any  sort  of  creativeness.  But  the  ac- 
count of  these  investigations  could  hardly  fit  into  the  scheme  of 
this  book.  I  have,  therefore,  relegated  this  long  period  in 
modern  Hebrew,  as  well  as  a  brief  account  of  Mediaeval  Hebrew 
literature,  to  the  introductory  chapter. 


VI 


CONTENTS 

Page 

Preface v 

Introduction 1 

1.  Post-Biblical  Hebrew  Literature 1 

2.  The  Evolution  of  Post-Biblical  Hebrew 8 

I.  Romanticism:     The    Creation    of   the    Hebrew 

Novel 14 

II.  The  Second  Stage  of  the  Haskalah  Movement  .  .  24 
1.  The  Movement;  the  Newspaper  and  the  Maga- 
zine    24 

III.  Fiction  during  the  Second  Stage  of  the  Has- 

kalah Period  :  Literary  Criticism 32 

1.  The  Novel  and  the  Short  Story 32 

IV.  Fiction  during  the  Second  Stage  of  the  Has- 

kalah Period  (Continued) 42 

2.  Poetry:  Literary  Criticism 42 

V.  Peretz  Ben  Moshe  Smolenskin  (1839-1884) 57 

VI.  The  Revival  Movement 67 

VII.  Shalom  Jacob  Abramovitz  and  Shalom  Rabinovitz  75 
VIII.  The   Revival  Movement  in  Its  National  Sig- 
nificance    86 

IX.  Contemporary  Hebrew  Poetry 99 

X   Retrogression  and  Progress 112 

XL  The  Feuilleton,  Literary  Criticism,  and  Allied 

Branches:  Conclusion 119 

Index , 125 


vu 


«   •  • 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW 

LITERATURE 


INTRODUCTION 

I.  POST-BIBLICAL  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Hebrew  literature  did  not  end  with  the  close  of  the  Canon  of 
the  Old  Testament,  but  has  continued  its  existence  through  all 
the  devious  paths  of  Jewish  history  down  to  our  own  time,  always 
expressing  the  spirit,  the  influences,  the  material  and  spiritual 
condition  of  the  Jewish  people  during  the  long  ages  of  its  struggle 
and  suffering.  During  all  these  years,  Hebrew  literature  has 
shared  the  fortunes  of  the  Jewish  people,  it  has  been  swayed  by 
the  same  influences,  and  subject  to  the  same  varying  atmospheric 
pressure.  For  two  reasons  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
different  periods  of  this  literature  stands  out  very  clearly  against 
the  light  of  history,  perhaps  more  than  in  any  other  litera- 
ture. In  the  first  place,  as  the  Jewish  spirit  has  always  been 
collective  rather  than  individualistic,  the  movement  of  Hebrew 
literature  has  generally  been,  so  to  speak,  en  masse;  and  it  is 
always  easier  to  define  the  limits  of  a  collective  movement  than 
to  trace  individual  tastes  and  influences.  Secondly,  the  various 
periods  of  Hebrew  literature,  at  least  up  to  the  nineteenth 
century,  were  as  a  whole  co-extensive  with  the  periods  of  Jewish 
history  as  connected  with  this  or  that  particular  country.  It  is 
enough  to  recall  to  mind  the  history  of  the  Jews  in  Spain,  for 
example,  and  the  so-called  Spanish  period  of  Hebrew  literature 
immediately  stands  before  the  mind's  eye,  clear-cut,  well-rounded, 
and  well-defined.  The  division  of  Hebrew  literature  into  distinct 
periods,  is,  therefore,  easy  and  natural. 

The  literary  production  that  immediately  followed  the  Bible, 
that  was  dependent  upon  it  and,  in  a  manner,  created  in  its 
2  1 


EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

spirit,  was  the  Talmudic  literature.  This,  probably,  embraces  a 
longer  period  than  that  of  the  Bible,  beginning  long  before  the 
close  of  the  Canon  of  the  Old  Testament  and  continuing  down 
to  the  tenth  century,  when  the  Talmudic  colleges  in  Babylonia 
were  closed — an  event  which  practically  amounted  to  the  closing 
of  the  Talmudic  Canon.  Like  the  Biblical  literature,  that  of  the 
Talmud  bears  the  stamp  of  the  collective  spirit  of  the  Jewish 
people  rather  than  that  of  the  individual;  in  it,  likewise,  the 
influence  of  foreign  culture  is  almost  imperceptible.  Further- 
more, in  the  latter  as  in  the  former,  we  still  inhale  the  fresh  and 
fragrant  odor  of  mother  earth,  the  Talmudic  activity  having 
begun  while  the  Jews  were  still  leading  a  fully  developed  organic 
and  national  life.  Even  in  Babylon,  where  the  Talmud  was 
given  its  final  and  most  complete  shape,  they  enjoyed  a  semi- 
autonomous  life,  engaging  in  all  the  various  economic  pursuits 
of  the  land,  and  standing  in  close  touch  with  nature — perhaps 
more  so  than  at  any  other  time  in  the  diaspora.  As  a  result, 
we  find  reflected  in  the  Talmud,  in  its  Halakic  as  well  as  in  its 
Agadic  part,  an  all-sided  and  complete  national  existence. 

For  some  time  before  the  close  of  the  Talmudic  Canon,  a 
change  had  been  gradually  taking  place  in  Hebrew  literature, 
affecting  both  its  content  and  its  form.  This  change  was 
mainly  due  to  the  fact  that  Hebrew  literature  had  come  under 
the  potent  influence  of  Arabic  culture.  The  various  literary 
branches,  which,  in  the  Talmud,  had  been  heaped  in  a  confused 
jumble,  now  began  to  be  differentiated  and  systematized,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  individual  element  became  more  defined 
and  more  pronounced.  This  period  culminated  in  the  so-called 
Spanish  age  in  Hebrew^  literature  (c.  1000-1300),  the  Iberian 
peninsula  then  being  the  main  center  of  literary  activity.  It  was 
a  time  of  real  creativeness,  during  which  Hebrew,  though  in- 
fluenced by  the  Arabic,  struck  out  on  a  path  of  its  own.  In 
Rabbinics,  it  was  the  most  intellectual  age,  giving  Talmudic 
literature  an  almost  scientific  treatment  as  regards  classification 
and  interpretation.  In  poetry,  it  was,  with  the  exception  of 
our  own  time,  the  most  flourishing  age  in  the  diaspora,  pro- 

2 


INTRODUCTION 

ducing  such  noble  poets  as  Ibn  Gebirol  and  Halevi.  In  romance, 
too,  some  not  unsuccessful  attempts  were  made.  As  for  specula- 
tion, it  was  the  period  of  the  creation  of  a  religious  philosophy  and 
of  grammatical  and  other  sciences,  both  among  the  Arabs  and 
among  the  Jews.  This  age,  as  was  natural,  laid  its  impress  upon 
subsequent  productions  in  Hebrew.  The  rime — borrowed  from 
the  Arabs — which  had  been  first  introduced  into  Hebrew  poetry 
during  this  time,^  dominated  Hebrew  versification  down  to  the 
beginning  orthe  eighteenth  ^gfijj^rv.  and  the  meter,  also  Arabic 
in  origin,  exerted  an  influence  even  as  late  as  the  middle  of  tt^g, 
nineteenth,  whereas  the  creations  of  that  period  were  a  perennial 
'^  source  of  inspiration  for  later  poets  and  philosophers.  But,  as 
if  exhausted  by  the  too  great  intellectual  strain,  Hebrew  litera- 
ture, for  the  next  three  or  four  hundred  years,  presents  almost  a 
blank.  The  violent  persecutions  of  the  Jews  on  the  part  of  the 
Christian  world  and  the  consequent  segregation  of  the  former 
in  the  Ghettos  and  their  indulgence  in  Rabbinic  casuistry,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  in  Kabbalah,  on  the  other,  robbed  them  of 
the  joy  of  life,  and  together  with  it,  of  the  real  power  of  literary 
creativeness.  Here  and  there  a  Jewish  scholar  may  have  culled 
some  gleanings  from  the  thought  of  the  Spanish  masters,  now 
and  then  a  noble  piyut  (hymn)  may  have  been  indited,  but  as  a 
whole,  little  of  lasting  value  was  created  during  this  time. 

The  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  marks  a  renaissance 
in  Hebrew  letters.  It  was  in  Italy  that  the  revival  was  initiated. 
The  Jews  of  that  country  had  been  for  centuries  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Spanish  Jewry;  with  them,  moreover,  a  number  of 
Jews  driven  from  Spain  had  found  refuge.  In  Italy,  therefore, 
the  tradition  of  the  Jews  of  the  Iberian  peninsula  and  their 
splendid  achievements  lingered  to  a  later  age  than  elsewhere  in 
Europe,  with  the  exception  of  Turkey.  It  is  only  when  we  bear 
these  facts  in  mind  that  we  are  able  to  understand  the  appearance 
in  Italy  of  a  literary  phenomenon  such  as  M.  H.  Luzzatto.  a 

1  The  first  Hebrew  poet  known  to  have  used  rime  was  the  paitan  Yajaaj^^g,. 
700  C.  E.).     He  used  as  his  model  the  Arabic  rimed  prose,  or  rime  without 
■  meter  (sajf.     G.  Karpeles,  "Geschichte  der  Judischen  Literatur,"  2te  Auflage, 
V.  1,  p.  325.     Cf.  Nicholson,  "A  Literary  History  of  the  Arabs,"  p.  74. 


4 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

religious  philosopher,  nay,  a  Kabbalist  25ct^  excellence,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  a  poet  and  dramatist  of  a  modern  stamp.  For 
only  among  the  Rabbis  of  Spain  could  his  prototype  be  found. 
Luzzatto,  it  is  true,  was  influenced  in  his  lyrical  dramas  by  the 
Italian;  in  fact,  he  adapted  a  couple  of  dramas  from  that  lan- 
guage; it  is  not,  however,  in  the  dramatic  but  in  the  lyrical 
element  that  the  importance  of  his  works  lies.  Luzzatto  has, 
moreover,  the  merit  of  having  discredited  the  heavy  and  arti- 
ficial Arabic  rime  and,  to  a  great  extent,  also  the  meter,^  under 
which  the  Hebrew  poets  had  labored  since  the  days  of  Dunash 
Ibn  Labrat  (tenth  century). 

~  The  revival  in  Hebrew  literature,  however,  began  as  a  move- 
ment about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  During  his 
generation,  Luzzatto  had  stood  almost  alone  in  his  literary 
endeavors.  He  did  not  even  have  a  reading  public  (it  is  char- 
acteristic that  his  masterpiece  "La-Yesharim  Tehillah"  was 
published  in  fifty  copies  only) ;  but  the  impulse  that  he  had  given 
to  modernism  in  Hebrew  bore  fruit  in  the  following  generation. 
At  this  time  Germany  became  the  main  center  of  activity. 
Italy,  it  is  true,  still  continued  to  contribute  its  share  to  Jewish 
learning  as  well  as  to  Hebrew  literature.  The  sonnet,  for  ex- 
ample, which  originated  in  Italy,  was  first  introduced  into 
Hebrew  by  the  poets  of  that  country,  notably  by  the  Luzzatto 
family.  But  Germany  now  became  the  center  from  which  there 
radiated  to  the  Jews  influences  not  only  literary  but  also  social 
and  educational. 

Hebrew  literature  in  the  German  period  centered  around  a 
monthly  called  "Meassef  "  (the  Magazine),  after  which  the  whole 
period  is  named  (the  period  of  the  Meassefim).  The  promoters 
of  this  magazine,  a  group  of  lovers  of  Hebrew  in  Koenigsberg  and 
elsewhere  in  Germany,  were  the  disciples  of  Moses  Mendelssohn, 
the  German- Jewish  philosopher  and  Schoengeist.  In  those  days 
Europe  was  dominated  by  the  rationalistic  rather  than  the 
scientific  temper,  and  cosmopolitan  rather  than  nationalistic 
tendencies  held  sway.     To  the  latter  fact  may,  at  least  partly, 

1  "Leshon  Limmudim,"  the  part  that  is  still  in  manuscript. 

4 


INTRODUCTION 

be  attributed  Mendelssohn's  dictum  that  the  Jews  represented^ 
a  religious  but  not  a  national  body.  And  these  tendencies,  to- 
gether with  the  precept  of  their  teacher,  were  introduced  into 
literature  by  the.  Hebrew  writers  of  the  time.  The  latter,  more- 
over, were  not  quite  earnest  about  their  work  in  Hebrew;  they 
regarded  it  partly  as  a  pastime,  partly  as  a  sort  of  introduction 
to  the  native  literature.  Hence,  the  Hebrew  literature  of  the 
time  had  no  atmosphere  of  its  own  and  could,  therefore,  not 
present  any  real  originality  or  creativeness,  or  even  temperament 
and  personality.  Imbued  with  the  rationalistic  spirit,  it  pos- 
sessed all  the  dryness  and  lack  of  imagination  and  emotion 
characteristic  of  rationalism;  and  disregarding  the  national 
element,  it  neglected  a  living  source  of  inspiration,  which  might 
have  stood  Hebrew  poetry  in  good  stead. ^ 

The  writers  of  the  Meassefim  period  were  thus  too  devoid  of 
earnestness  to  be  able  to  create  a  great  literary  movement.  They 
had  neither  the  genius  to  rise  above  the  level  of  imitation,  nor 
the  refinement  of  soul  of  their  spiritual  leader,  Mendelssohn, 
to  create  even  an  ephemeral  aesthetic  philosophy.  The  literary 
heritage  that  this  period  left  to  Hebrew  was,  therefore,  not 
great;  yet  it  laid  its  impress  upon  the  productions  in  that  language 
down  to  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  beyond.  This 
century  of  Hebrew  literature  (c.  1750-1850)  is  generally  called 
the  Haskalah  period.  Strictly  speaking,  however,  it  is  the  first 
stage  of  the  Haskalah  period,  in  contradistinction  from  its  second 
stage,  which  falls  during  the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
and  which  will  be  treated  at  length  in  the  main  body  of  the  book. 
Haskalah  connotes  enlightenment,  education,  whence  the  name 
Maskilim,  the  enlightened,  illuminati,  the  votaries  of  Haskalah. 
The  atmosphere  of  this  period  was  the  same  as  that  of  the 
Meassefim.  The  spirit  was  rationalistic  and,  to  say  the  least,  not 
nationalistic,  whereas  the  literary  creations  were  almost  entirely 
"(devoid  of  the  personal  element  and,  with  very  few  exceptions^ 
"occasional,  perfunctory,  ephemeral^  The  odor  of  the  salon,  of 
mutual  admiration  and  self-satisfaction,  permeates  the  works  of 

1  F.  Delitzsch,  "Zur  Geschichte  der  juedischen  Poesie,"  Leipzig,  1836,  p.  105. 

5 


/ 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

the  Maskilim,  as  it  does,  to  some  extent,  the  European  literature 
of  the  time.  As  for  the  rehgious  attitude  of  the  Maskilim  of  this 
period,  though  their  beliefs  as  influenced  by  the  German  illumi- 
niati,  were  tinged  with  deistic  tendencies,  yet  they  did  not  go 
out  in  open  warfare  against  the  accepted  Jewish  ceremonies;  but, 
in  this  respect,  were  conciliatory  rather  than  otherwise.  This 
characteristic  draws  a  sharp  line  of  distinction  between  them 
and  the  Maskilim  of  the  second  stage  of  the  Haskalah  period, 
whose  attitude  towards  the  faith  of  their  people  was  militant 
and  antagonistic,,  "' 

In  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  center  of 
activity  in  Hebrew  literature  was  transferred  to  Galicia.  In 
Germany,  many  causes  had  conspired  to  effect  a  divorce  between 
the  Hebrew  language  and  Jewry.  The  economic  condition  of 
the  latter  was  probably  the  main  factor  in  effecting  this  breach. 
As  big  traders  and  merchants,  the  Jews  of  that  country,  chafing 
under  the  pressure  of  political  disabilities,  then  still  prevailing 
in  Germany,  found  the  native  language  more  available  than 
Hebrew  for  purposes  both  of  commerce  and  emancipation. 
Hebrew,  therefore,  passed  away  from  Germany  with  the  last 
issue  of  the  Meassef.  In  Galicia,  however,  the  economic  and 
social  position  of  the  Jews  was  different  There  they  were 
leading  more  or  less  a  sedentary  Ghetto  life,  being  petty  traders 
and  artisans;  hence,  the  necessity  for  studying  the  native  lan- 
guage w^as  not  so  strongly  felt  among  them.  Moreover,  in 
Galicia,  a  country  of  divers  tongues,  Hebrew  could  easily  hold 
its  own  among  the  Jews.  This  language,  therefore,  became  a 
more  natural  literary  expression  of  the  illuminati  in  this  country 
than  it  had  been  in  Germany. 

The  gains  that  Hebrew  literature  made  during  this  subdivision 
of  the  Haskalah  period  were,  as  above  indicated,  hardly  in  the 
domain  of  belles-lettres,  the  novel  not  yet  having  been  invented 
and  the  poem  still  being  dominated  by  the  spirit  of  the  Meassefim. 
The  only  progress  made  was  in  the  so-called  Hokmath  Yisrael 
Xlewish  Science),  which  was  undoubtedly  influenced  by  Biblical 
criticism  and  historical  investigation  which  then  came  to  the 


i 


INTRODUCTION 

fore.  Among  the  Jews,  however,  there  was  only  one  man,  N.  ^ 
Krochmal,  who  made  an  independent  and  somewhat  systematic 
study  of  the  BibKcal  times.  For  the  rest,  Jewish  Science  centered 
its  energy  upon  the  middle  ages,  a  preference  to  be  accounted 
for  by  the  fact  that  for  the  Jew,  the  pious  Jew — the  initiator 
of  this  study,  S.  J.  Rapoport,  and  many  other  scholars  en- 
gaging in  it  were  orthodox  Jews — the  mediaeval  times  presented 
less  slippery  ground  than  those  of  the  Bible. 

This  age,  commonly  called  the  Galician  period  of  Hebrew 
literature,  was  by  no  means  confined  to  Galicia.  There,  it  is 
true,  Hokmath  Yisrael  was  initiated,  and  there  the  magazines 
busying  themselves  with  it  were  published;  but  Jewish  science 
had  able  representatives  also  in  other  countries:  Germany, 
Russia,  Italy;  and  as  for  poetry,  the  foremost  poet  of  the  time, 
Adam  Lebensolyi,  was  not  a  Galician  but  a  Russian  Jew. 

In  Russia,  the  Haskalah  movement,  which  was  introduced 
somewhat  later  than  elsewhere,  assumed  a  peculiar  character. 
In  other  places  it  was  influenced  by  surrounding  circumstances 
and  surrounding  cultures;  in  that  country  it  was  hardly  touched, 
at  its  inception,  by  the  Russian  spirit,  but  was  still  dominated 
by  that  of  Germany.  Many  reasons  may  be  adduced  for  this 
cultural  phenomenon.  In  the  first  place,  the  Haskalah  iij 
Russia  was  a  continuation  of  that  in  Germany.  Then,  again, 
German,  the  parent  language  of  the  Jewish  vernacular,  Yiddish, 
was  more  accessible,  even  to  the  Russian  Jews,  than  the  native 
"Russian.  Finally,  as  the  movement  was  first  introduced  into 
Lithuania,  notably  Wilna,  it  could  hardly  be  touched  by  Russian 
culture  or  literature;  for  these  had  not  yet  spread  beyond  the 
pale  of  Russia  proper.^     And  it  was  not  till  about  the  middle  of         ^ 

1  Several  examples  may  here  be  cited  in  corroboration  of  this: — (a)  The 
Maskilim  in  Russia  were  surnamed  by  their  adversaries,  till  late  in  the  19th 
century,  Berlinites,  i.  e.,  people  permeated  by  the  spirit  prevalent  in  Berlin. 
{b)  Nicholas  I,  in  his  endeavors  to  educate  the  Jews,  employed  a  German 
apparatus  simultaneously  with  a  Russian.  A  German  Jew,  Lilienthal,  was 
entrusted  with  the  task,  and  in  some  places  the  language  of  the  school  estab- 
lished by  the  government  for  the  Jews,  was  not  Russian  but  German,  (c)  The 
mutual  ignorance  of  each  other's  life  was  so  great  with  the  Jew  and  the  Russian 
that  the  Shylock  character,  in  which  the  typical  and  professional  rogue  is 

7 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE  ( 

the  nineteenth  century,  after  Russia  had  taken  the  lead  in 
Hebrew  Hterature,  that  Russian  influences  began  to  tell  upon 
the  Haskalah,  leading  it  off  on  a  divergent  line.  With  this 
"phase,  however,  we  come  to  the  very  subject  with  which  this  book 
purports  to  deal. 

2.     THE   EVOLUTION  OF   POST-BIBLICAL  HEBREW 

It  is  difficult  to  tell  in  what  direction  Hebrew  might  have 
developed,  had  its  life-thread  not  been  broken  some  two  thousand 
years  ago.  Its  sister  language,  Arabic,  has  separated,  since 
the  days  of  Arabic  conquest  and  the  flourishing  of  Arabic  civiliza- 
tion, into  a  literary  and  a  vernacular,  which  are  almost  as  dis- 
tinctly different  from  each  other  as  two  dialects  can  be.  The 
linguistic  deposits  that  the  successive  waves  of  nationalities  had 
left  in  Greece  since  its  Byzantine  period,  had  so  profoundly 
affected  the  language  that  only  with  difficulty  did  it  escape,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  becoming  a  mere 
daughter  language  of  ancient  Greece.  And  yet  Greek  and 
Arabic  flourished,  declined,  and  revived  again  on  their  native 
soil,  having  constantly  had  the  touch  of  mother  earth  to  renew 
their  failing  strength.  In  the  case  of  Hebrew,  which  is  in  the 
possession  of  a  race  widely  scattered  and  of  highly  assimilative 
powers,  would  it  not  have  become  a  mixture  of  tongues  and 
dialects  as  differentiated  from  each  other  and  from  the  mother 
tongue  as  the  Romance  or  the  Germanic  languages  have  become? 
Even  as  it  is,  there  has  been  a  marked  distinction  between  the 
styles  of  the  Hebrew  authors  living  in  different  countries,  where 
the  influence  of  the  various  foreign  languages  is  noticeable. 

This  is,  however,  idle  speculation.  Hebrew  did  cease  to  be  a 
living  tongue  in  the  sense  of  everyday  use,  as  far  back  as  the 
Babylonian  exile,  remaining  down  to  our  own  time  merely  a 
language  of  the  book.     And  yet  Hebrew  has  been  to  the  Jews 

represented  as  a  Jew,  was  again  and  again  repeated  in  Russian  literature  in 
the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century,  being  found  even  among  the  noblest 
of  Russian  writers:  Poushkin,  Gogol,  Lermontov,  Turgeniev,  for  example, — 
a  phenomenon  much  less  frequently  to  be  met  with  in  the  second  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

8 


INTRODUCTION 

more  than  Latin  has  been  to  the  learned  world.  The  latter 
language  became  colorless  with  the  last  Roman;  in  the  post- 
Roman  period,  it  has  never  borne  the  impress  of  the  genius  of 
any  nationality — not  even  in  Italy,  the  habitat  of  the  nearest 
of  kin  to  the  Romans,  and  not  even  in  the  days  of  the  Renaissance, 
when  the  greatest  enthusiasm  for  Latin  prevailed.  Hebrew,  on 
the  other  hand,  has  never  ceased  to  receive  the  impress  of  the 
national  genius,  as  it  has  never  ceased  to  represent  it.  It  is  true, 
that  in  the  course  of  its  history,  Hebrew  received  some  telling 
influences  from  the  outside — a  process  inevitable  in  the  case  of  a 
language  that  has  constantly  been  in  touch  with  so  many  and 
such  varied  tongues  in  the  diaspora.  Yet  Hebrew  has  essentially 
retained  its  original  and  national  purity  even  down  to  the  present 
time,  when,  with  the  expansion  of  its  literature  in  all  directions, 
the  sluices  were  opened  for  an  inrush  of  borrowed  terms  and 
for  the  creation  of  countless  neologisms. 

The  evolution  of  post-Biblical  Hebrew  down  to  recent  times 
has  been  going  on  in  stages,  each  one  of  which  has  left  its  peculiar 
mark  upon  the  language.  There  was,  in  the  first  place,  the 
Mishnaic-Talmudic-Midrashic  literature,  which  presents  a  style 
and  terminology  quite  different  from  those  of  Biblical  Hebrew. 
I  mention  this  triple  literature  in  one  breath,  because  it  bears, 
in  general,  a  common  character;  there  is,  however,  some  difference 
between  the  individual  parts,  in  contents  as  well  as  in  linguistic 
contribution.  The  Mishna,  comprising  theologic  and  juristic 
decisions,  presents  a  keen  contrast,  with  its  dry,  precise,  and 
lucid  style,  to  the  pregnant,  impassioned,  and  paraphrastic 
diction  of  the  Bible.  But,  though  recruited  to  some  extent  from 
Latin,  Greek,  and  Aramaic,  its  neologisms  are  fundamentally 
Hebraic.  The  Talmud  and  the  Midrash,  on  the  other  hand, 
written  mainly  in  the  Jewish  vernacular  of  the  time,  Aramaic, 
offer  a  style  and  terminology  that  incline  towards  those  of  the 
latter,  even  where  Hebrew  holds  its  own  against  it.  Now,  it 
can  not  be  known  how  much  the  colloquial  ancient  Hebrew 
contributed  to  the  terminology  of  this  triple  literature;  certain 
it  is  that  the  wealth  of  new  terms  stored  up  or  created  in  the 

9 


K 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

latter,  made  possible  the  manifold  development  of  later  Hebrew 
literature. 

The  transition  of  the  Hebrew  to  the  so-called  Spanish  period 
was  a  gain  in  another  direction,  in  style  and  vocabulary.  For 
Rabbinics,  the  Talmudic  literature  had  provided  both  style  and 
terminology,  and  for  poetry  and  romance  Biblical  Hebrew 
offered  a  plentiful  supply.  Not  so  with  philosophy  and  science, 
particularly  the  former.  The  Biblical  and  Talmudic  styles  are 
anything  but  philosophic.  There  is  a  total  absence  of  philosophic 
terms,  such  as  have  been  created  by  the  Greeks,  for  instance,  or 
even  of  theologic  terms  such  as  we  discover  in  the  scholastic  , 
literature.  The  philosophy  of  life  and  the  Godhead  are  treated 
in  the  Bible  and  in  the  Talmud  in  images  rather  than  in  terms. 
When,  therefore,  under  the  influence  of  the  Arabs,  Greek  thought 
and  its  demand  for  precision  were  to  be  dealt  with  in  Hebrew, 
there  was  no  escape  by  circuitous  ways,  by  paraphrase  and 
circumlocution.  A  philosophic  terminology  had  to  be  created; 
and  it  was  created.  And  if  we  add  to  this  gain  that  of  the 
terminology  of  grammatical  science,  we  will  have  a  conception 
of  the  linguistic  contributions  of  that  period  to  Hebrew. 

The  space  of  a  few  hundred  years  intervening  between  the 
Spanish  period  and  the  eighteenth  century  added  hardly  any- 
thing either  literary  or  linguistic  to  Hebrew;  but  the  gains  of 
the  preceding  periods  provided  the  latter  with  a  working  vocabu- 
lary for  a  modern  literature,  which  was  to  become  constantly 
richer  in  contents  and  wider  in  scope.  Not  that  all  the  wealth 
of  style  and  vocabulary  created  and  hoarded  up  during  the 
preceding  ages  were  exploited  right  at  the  beginning  of  the 
modern  period.  On  the  contrary,  the  terminology  of  post- 
Biblical  Hebrew  literature  was  at  first  rejected  as  not  puristic 
enough  and  only  that  of  the  Bible  was  reverted  to.  Many 
reasons  may  be  adduced  for  this  return  to  the  original  source  of 
the  Hebrew.  The  beginnings  of  modern  Hebrew  literature  were 
made  by  Jewish  writers  in  Germany,  where  the  Talmud  was 
less  known  and  less  valued  than  in  other  countries.  Then, 
again,  the  appreciation  of  the  Bible  as  a  work  of  art  having 

10 


INTRODUCTION 

just  begun,  it  was  natural  for  that  generation  to  give  the 
preference  to  the  picturesque  BibHcal  diction  rather  than  to  the 
unadorned  though  more  precise  later  Hebrew  style.  And,  so, 
just  as  the  renaissance  in  Italy  brought  with  it  the  cultivation 
and  imitation  of  the  classic  Latin,  and  in  France  the  imitation 
of  the  classic  Greek  (notably  Ronsard),  in  the  same  way  the 
renaissance  in  Hebrew  literature  expressed  its  admiration  of 
classic  Hebrew  by  the  rejection  of  any  word  or  form  not  found  in 
the  Bible. 

Had  the  Hebrew  literature  of  that  time  stood  in  closer  contact 
with  life,  this  tendency  would  have  been  swept  away  by  the 
demands  of  reality,  which  could  not  be  satisfied  with  the  flowery 
style  and  the  few  hundred  roots  found  in  the  entire  treasury  of 
the  Bible.  And  in  fact,  whenever  a  scientific  subject  was  dealt 
with — a  grammar,  a  philosophic  work,  a  book  on  "Jewish 
Science" — recourse  had  to  be  had  to  the  mediaeval  accretions 
of  the  Hebrew.^  Literature  proper,  however,  belles-lettres  and 
aUied  branches,  was  not  only  limited  to  the  Biblical  vocabulary, 
but  was  stylistically  an  imitation  and,  in  its  greatest  part,  an 
abuse,  of  the  style  and  phraseology  of  the  Bible.  The  flowery, 
"Melizah,"  phrase,  a  euphemism  of  peculiar  character,  half 
imitation  and  half  distortion  of  the  Biblical  verse  to  suit  a 
certain  fanciful  meaning,  entirely  mastered  Hebrew  literature. 

This  condition  was,  of  course,  incongruous  with  the  conception 
of  a  modern  Hebrew  literature,  and  could,  therefore,  remain 
unmodified  only  so  long  as  the  latter  held  aloof  from  life  and 
confined  itself  to  the  abstract.  But  the  further  its  scope  widened 
and  the  more  frequently  it  began  to  deal  with  live  problems,  the 
keener  the  question  arose  of  the  adaptability  of  Hebrew  to 

1  It  may  here  be  remarked  that  the  speculative  writings  in  Hebrew  were 
dominated  during  that  time,  and  till  late  in  the  nineteenth  century,  by  the 
diction  of  the  Spanish-Jewish  thinkers.  Now,  most  of  the  works  of  these 
thinkers  were  originally  written  in  Arabic  and  only  later  were  they  translated 
into  Hebrew.  And,  as  translation  had  then  not  yet  risen  to  the  height  of  an 
art,  the  versions  were  so  greatly  marred  by  Arabisms  as  very  frequently  to 
obscure  the  sense.  Yet,  these  solecisms,  strange  to  say,  infiltrated  themselves 
even  into  modern  philosophic  and  historic  works,  and  it  was  not  till  recent 
times  that  they  were  entirely  eliminated  from  the  Hebrew. 

11 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

modern  life  and  thought.  If  this  language  was  to  become  the 
real  and  effective  mouthpiece  of  the  latter,  then  it  could  not 
remain  on  the  level  that  history  had  placed  it  some  two  thousand 
years  previously.  This  fact  became  clear,  for  the  first  time, 
with  the  establishment  of  the  first  modern  Hebrew  weekly, 
"Ha-Maggid,"  in  1856,  and  demands  for  the  modernization  of 
the  language  accordingly  became  insistent;^  but  it  was  not  till 
much  later,  under  the  influence  of  the  national  revival,  when 
Hebrew  began  to  develop  in  Palestine  even  as  a  vernacular, 
that  these  demands  assumed  definite  form,  bringing  the  language 
back  to  the  point  where  it  had  left  off  at  the  end  of  the  Spanish 
period,  and  resuming  the  work  of  adapting  it  to  modern  needs. 

Neo-Hebrew,  whether  in  its  literary  aspect  or  as  a  vernacular, 
has  not  gone  so  far  from  the  original  as  modern  Greek,  for 
instance.  The  process  of  development  of  the  Hebrew  as  a 
vernacular  is  too  recent  for  that;  and  it  is  always  easier  to  pre- 
serve the  purity  of  a  language  in  literature  than  in  speech. 
Yet,  it  does  not  require  the  gift  of  prophecy  to  predict  that 
before  long  ancient  Hebrew  will  disappear  under  new  linguistic 
layers.  Even  now.  Biblical  Hebrew  has  been  almost  overlapped 
by  modern  creations;  so  much  so  that  one  nursed  upon  the 
Haskalah  literature  will  only  with  difficulty  master  the  present 
style  and  vocabulary,  unless  the  thread  of  development  has 
been  closely  followed.  And  what  direction  Hebrew  will  take 
when  modern  life  and  culture  will  be  at  its  height  in  Palestine 
can  easily  be  foreseen. 

Neo-Hebrew  has  developed  on  the  following  main  lines:  The 
Bible,  the  original  source  of  Hebrew,  has,  needless  to  say,  been 
thoroughly  ransacked  and  fully  exploited.  The  Talmudic  litera- 
ture, too,  which  forms  a  really  inexhaustible  mine  for  neo-Hebraic 
purposes,  has  been  resorted  to  extensively.  And  the  same  was 
the  case  with  the  reproductions  of  the  Spanish  period.  As  for 
new  creations  in  our  own  time — and  their  name  is  legion — there 
has  been,  besides  the  self-reproducing  neologisms,  a  wide  choice 
of  general  European  terms  and  words  from  the  sister  language, 

1  Ha-Maggid,  1861,  Nos.  9,  10,  15. 

12 


INTRODUCTION 

Arabic,  with  which  the  Hebrew  vocabulary  has  been  recruited. 
As  for  the  grammatical  and  idiomatic  structure  of  the  sentence, 
it  has  essentially  remained  the  same  as  that  of  the  old  Hebrew. 
Yet  many  important  changes  have  been  affected  in  this  direction, 
making  the  language  more  flexible  and  bringing  it  nearer  to 
modern  analytic  tongues.  A  few  instances  may  here  be  given.^ 
The  Hebrew  perfect,  imperfect,  and  participle,  which  were  long 
ago  pressed  into  the  service  of  the  past,  future,  and  present 
respectively,  are  being  more  and  more  strictly  adhered  to  in  their 
latter  function,  and  together  with  it  there  has  again  come  into 
good  use  the  past  progressive — the  participle  with  the  perfect  of 
the  verb  hayah  (to  be) — already  employed  in  the  Talmud,  under 
the  influence  of  the  Aramaic.  The  verbal  forms  of  the  latter  lan- 
guage, shafel  and  nithpael,  and,  less  frequently,  nithpoel,  have 
been  made  extensive  use  of;  and,  at  the  same  time,  verbs  found 
in  the  Bible,  say,  in  only  qal  or  piel  have  also  been  put  into  the 
other  grammatical  forms.  Verbs  have  been  constructed  from 
general  European  terms  mostly  in  the  piel,  whereas  new  nouns 
have  been  created  in  accordance  with  the  verbal  form  in  which 
the  root  is  found  in  Hebrew. 

From  this  brief  sketch  of  the  development  of  Hebrew  from  the 
time  it  ceased  to  be  a  spoken  tongue  until  it  has  reappeared  in 
our  own  time  as  a  vernacular,  one  may  see  that  it  has  never 
been  a  dead  language,  in  the  real  sense  of  the  term.  It  has  con- 
tinued growing  and  leading  some  sort  of  life,  however  inane  this 
life  may  have  been  at  times,  acting  as  the  mouthpiece  of  the  most 
characteristic  Jewish  productions  and  supplying  certain  national 
demands.  Moreover,  in  the  long  course  of  its  development,  it 
has  become  more  supple  and  plastic,  and  thus  adaptable  to 
modern  usage.  As  for  the  future  of  this  language  it  depends 
upon  the  vitality  of  the  Jewish  people  and  upon  the  measure  of 
cultural  independence  that  the  latter  will  be  able  to  maintain  in 
Palestine  and  elsewhere. 

1  The  reader  may  be  referred  in  this  respect  to  the  excellent  work  of  Dr.  Leo 
Metman:  "Die  Hebraeische  Sprache,"  Jerusalem,  1904. 


13 


CHAPTER  I 

ROMANTICISM,  THE  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL 

The  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  not  merely  a  con- 
ventional time-division  in  the  history  of  Hebrew  literature,  but 
is  a  natural  boundary  line  sharply  marking  off  two  distinct 
literary  tendencies  and  types  of  literature.  Modern  Hebrew 
literature  already  had  had  behind  it  a  history  of  some  hundred 
years, — a  history  interesting  at  least  as  regards  the  influences  it 
had  undergone  in  the  course  of  its  wandering  from  country  to 
country.  But,  with  the  exception  of  the  endeavors  of  the  so- 
called  Jewish  Science  (Hokmath  Yisrael)  during  the  Galician 
period,  modern  Hebrew  literature  could  hardly  lay  claim  to  any 
originality  or  creativeness.  It  was,  in  the  main,  in  spirit  as  well 
as  in  form,  composed  of  imitations,  generally  poor  imitations,  of 
the  productions  of  the  surrounding  European  literatures.  In 
spirit,  it  was  deistic,  rationalistic,  cosmopolitan,  of  the  colorless 
type  tliat  prevailed,  say,  among  the  German  "illuminati"  at  thg 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  or  among  the  French  writers  of 
the  Voltairian  school, — minus  the  revolutionary  spirit  of  the 
latter.  There  was  in  Hebrew  literature,  and,  for  that  matter, 
in  Hebrew  society  at  large,  no  truly  great  ideal,  national  or  even 
cosmopolitan,  towards  which  to  strive,  no  great  passion  to  stir 
the  emotions,  no  broad  perspective  to  fire  the  imagination.  The 
ephemeral,  the  occasional,  the  petty,  satisfied  the  Hebrew  poet 
and  the  writer,  and  interested  the  Hebrew  reader.  Only  at  rare 
intervals  could  you  hear  a  truer,  deeper,  more  original  note. 

The  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  brought  a  new  departure 
in  Hebrew  literature.  At  that  time  there  appeared  a  volume  of 
poems,  small  in  compass,  but  of  a  freshness,  originality,  and 
sincerity  hitherto  unknown, — poems  that  were  for  Hebrew  what 
the  "Lyrical  Ballads"  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  had  been 
for  English  literature.     The  beginning  of  the  fifties,  moreover, 

14 


ROMANTICISM;  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL 

saw  what  was  of  even  greater  importance:    the  birth  of  the 
Hebrew  novel.     And  this  new  departure  manifested  itself  not 
only  in  the  quality  but  also  in  the  spirit,  in  the  temper,  of  the 
new  literary  productions.     The  same  transformation  that  had 
taken  place  in  European  literature  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  was  now  imperceptibly  taking  place  in  the  Hebrew .-^ 
In  the  latter,  as  in  the  former,  the  reaction  was  against  the 
dryness,  the  unction,  the  formality,  of  the  old  pseudo  classic  ' 
literary  spirit, — a  reaction  that  resulted  in  the  so-called  Romantic] 
movement. 

In  Hebrew  literature,  however,  this  new  movement  can  be 
termed  romantic  by  courtesy  only.     It  was  so  symptomatically, 
but    not    consciously.     The    search    for   the    mystico-romantic 
"blue  flower"   could  hardly  become  a  real  passion  with  the 
modern,  sober-minded  Jew.     Besides,  in  Hebrew,  romanticism 
was  a  belated  blossom.     It  came  into  the  world  when  even  a 
Hugo  was  renouncing  it  in  European  literature,  when  Flaubert 
was  already  producing  his  realistic  masterpieces,  and  when  the 
predominance  of  the  "fourth  estate"  with  its  real  struggles  and 
demands,  was  being  established  in  politics  as  well  as  in  literature. 
Hence,  TIcbrew  romanticism,  in  the  first  place,  was  of  short 
duration,  and,  in  the  second  place,  assumed  a  healthier  aspects 
than,  let  us  say,  German  romanticism.     It  expressed  itself  in  a.       j 
love  for  the  ancient  and  the  mediaeval,  in  a  religiosity — in  the,    ^ 
case  of  Lebensohn,  the  poet  of  the  period, — in  a  greater  appreci-^ 
ation  of  nature,  and  in  a  love  for  romantic  adventure  of  the 
kind  represented  in  the  works  of  Eugene  Sue. 

The  embodiment  of  romanticism  in  poetry  was  Micah  Joseph 
Lebensohn  (182S-1852),  He  was  the  son  of  Adam  Lebensohn, 
a  sentimental,  conventional  poet,  well  known  in  his  day  and  of 
considerable  influence  upon  Hebrew  poetry.  As  the  son  of  a 
Maskil,  M.  J.  Lebensohn  enjoyed  from  his  childhood  a  more 
thorough  secular  education  than  the  contemporary  Hebrew 
writers.  The  transition  from  the  Jewish — the  sacred — to  the 
profane  mode  of  thought  was,  therefore,  with  him,  not  accom- 

15 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

panied  by  the  internal  struggle  and  the  moral  strain  that  went 
with  the  transition  of  the  Maskilim  who,  in  their  youth,  had 
been  confined  to  "the  four  cubits  of  the  Law."  Lebensohn  thus 
grew  up  in  a  freer  atmosphere  than  they,  and  he  was  more  sin- 
cerely and  more  completely  given  to  the  enjoyment  of  life  and 
its  beauties.  Hence,  we  find  in  his  poems,  for  the  first  time  in 
modern  Hebrew  literature,  sincerely  passionate  notes  of  nature 
and  of  love. 

The  poems  of  Lebensohn  fall  into  two  divisions:  historic  or 
'^narrative  and  purely  lyrical  poems.  The  romantic  tendency  of 
the  poet  finds  utterance  particularly  in  the  former.  The  back- 
ground is  historic,  ancient  or  mediaeval,  and  there  is  manifest 
in  them  a  religious  yearning,  which,  indeed,  pervades  almost  all 
his  poems,  but  which  is  strongest  here.  The  best,  longest,  and 
most  representative  of  these  poems  is  "Faith  and  Knowledge," 
or,  as  the  exposition  to  the  title  runs :  "  To  prove  that  faith  gives 
man  joy  during  his  lifetime  and  delight  even  after  death,  and 
that  knowledge  without  faith  deprives  him  of  both."  The  poem 
is  composed  of  "two  illustrations"  taken  from  the  two  tradi- 
tional or  legendary  phases  of  the  life  of  king  Solomon:  that  of 
Solomon  the  young  man,  full  of  youthful  vigor,  the  lover  of 
Shulamith,  and  the  author  of  Canticles,  and  that  of  Solomon  the 
old  man,  the  pessimistic  philosopher  and  author  of  Ecclesiastes. 
In  a  mystico-romantic  fashion  Lebensohn  connects  the  youthful 
optimism  of  Solomon  with  religious  faith,  and  the  pessimism  of 
his  old  age  with  lack  of  faith,  and  like  the  romantic  Chateaubriand 
with  his  "Genie  de  Christianisme,"  Lebensohn  thought  he  had 
proven  with  his  "Faith  and  Knowledge"  the  preference  of  faith 
over  knowledge  and  the  value  of  the  former  for  life.  What  he 
did  prove  with  this  poem,  however,  was  that  a  poet  of  great 
promise  was  arising  in  Hebrew  literature, — a  promise  that  was, 
alas,  not  destined  to  be  fulfilled,  as  Lebensohn  died  at  the  age  of 
twenty-four.  For,  in  spite  of  the  tendency  of  the  poem,  and  in 
spite,  again,  of  a  certain  conventionality  of  phraseology — the 
mosaic  Biblical  style, — and  the  somewhat  conventional  stanza — 
the  four-stress  quatrain  with  alternate  rime, —  in  spite  of  all  this, 
' "~~      -  16 


ROMANTICISM;  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL 

the  poem  is  truly  noble,  manifesting  poetic  fire,  idyllic  beauty, 
and  vividness  of  erotic  emotion  which  remind  one  of  Keats,  with 
whom,  in  fact,  Lebensohn  had  much  in  common. 

The  other  long  poems  of  Lebensohn  do  not  rise  to  the  height  of 
"Faith  and  Knowledge,"  although  there  are  some  fine  lyric 
touches  in  all  of  them.  Yet,  the  psychologic  struggle,  in  the 
poem  "Joel  and  Sisera,"  between  the  duty  of  Joel  as  hostess  to 
Sisera  and  the  fove  Tor  her  people,  is  superbly  depicted. 

The  shorter  poems  of  Lebensohn  deal  generally  with  personal 
emotion  and  sentiment,  such  as  love,  appreciation  of  nature 
blended  with  religious  reflections,  and  hope  or  despair  engendered 
by  his  own  sickly  condition.  But  there  are  also  to  be  found  some 
poems  of  more  general  and  non-personal  import,  among  which 
may  be  counted  "To  the  Stars,"  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of, 
his  shorter  poems,  where  he  hurls  a  complaint  to  the  stars  against 
the  misery  and  corruption  of  our  world.  The  tone  of  his  poems, 
Kowever,  is,  in  general,  by  no  means  pessimistic;  on  the  contrary, 
the  poet  clings  to  life  with  all  the  tenacity  of  which  a  consumptive 
is  capable.  He  grasps  at  the  pleasures  of  life,  delights  in  the 
beauties  of  nature,  writes  very  pretty  playful  little  poems  on  the 
subject  of  love;  but,  at  the  same  time,  with  the  clear  conscious- 
ness of  the  chill  iron  grip  of  death  upon  him,  he  curses  the  spell 
that  the  love  of  this  world  has  cast  upon  him : 

"Cursed  be  the  love  of  life  forever! 
Most  woful  pang  of  all  human  sorrow! 
Soul  from  body  it  suffers  not  to  sever, 
Whisp'ring  hopes  delusive  for  the  morrow." 

In  brief,  Lebensohn  was  no  innovator  as  regards  poetic  form, 
style  or  meter;  but,  with  respect  to  intrinsic  value,  he  was  the  \^^ 

first  great  poet  in  modern  Hebrew  literature.     He  was  inspired^ 
By  what  is  noblest  in  man  and  nature,  and,  in  his  turn,  served  as 
an  inspiration  to  future  Hebrewpoets. 

There  were  at  that  time  also  a  number  of  versifiers,  the  most 
noted  of  whom  was  E.  ]\I.  Werbel,  who  wrote  a  few  original 

3  17 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

poems  and  made  some  translations  from  European  literature. 
The  poetic  value  of  Werbel's  works  is,  however,  slight.  His  most 
important  poem,  "  Edim  Neemanim,"  is  a  narrative  based  upon 
the  known  Talmudic  legend  of  the  rat  and  the  well,  which  were 
taken  as  witnesses  to  an  oath  of  constancy  between  two  lovers 
accidentally  meeting  in  the  wilderness,  and  which  avenged  the 
breaking  of  the  pledge.  The  subject  is,  to  be  sure,  romantic 
enough,  and  in  the  hands  of  a  true  poet  it  might  have  become  a 
real  epic;  but  Werbel  could  not  rise  above  a  dry,  though  smooth, 
telling  of  facts. 

The  romantic  par  excellence  was,  however,  Abraham  Mapu 
(1808-67),  who  was  also  the  creator  of  the  Hebrew  novel.  Mapu 
was  born  in  a  small  town  in  Russia  and  received  an  education  in 
accordance  with  traditional  Judaism,  devoting  himself,  in 
particular,  to  the  study  of  the  Talmud.  Being,  however,  of  a 
dreamy  nature,  he  did  not  find  sufficient  spiritual  food  in  the 
dry  laws  and  dialectics  of  the  Halachic  part  of  the  Talmud,  but 
was  always  attracted  by  the  Agadic  part,  with  its  fanciful  stories 
and  legends.  The  emotional  religious  fervor  of  Hasidism,  too, 
had  great  fascination  for  him,  and  he  became  attached  to  it  for  a 
time.  As  for  the  Kabbalah,  its  temptation  for  him  lay  in  its 
mysteries,  which  he  not  only  studied  deeply,  but  even  attempted 
to  translate  into  practice. 

With  the  secular  world  of  letters  he  became  acquainted  by 
mere  chance.  He  accidentally  happened  upon  a  Latin  version 
of  the  Bible,  from  which  he  studied  that  classic  tongue,  by  aid 
of  the  Hebrew  text;  and  when  he  later  became  proficient  in  this 
language  and  began  to  study  its  literature,  a  new  world  was 
opened  before  him,  into  which  he  threw  himself  with  all  the 
plasticity  and  impressibility  of  his  mind.  Thenceforth  he  took 
up  Russian,  German,  and  French,  drinking  deep  draughts  at 
the  fountains  of  their  literatures.  And  the  influence  of  these 
literatures  was  in  accord  with  his  temperament.  For,  with  a 
nature  such  as  his,  mild,  timid,  dreamy,  and  impressible,  he 
could  not  but  fall  under  the  influence  of  the  fantastic  novels  of  a 

18 


ROMANTICISM;  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL 

Eugene  Sue  rather  than  of  the  matter-of-fact  stories  of  a  Balzac. 
Add  to  this,  moreover,  the  circumstances  under  which  he  lived: 
his  being  confined  to  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  Talmudic 
academy,  and  to  the  narrow  limits  of  a  small  town,  with  its 
monotonous,  stagnant  life, — and  it  will  readily  be  understood 
why  his  creative  powers  sought  an  outlet  in  the  romantic,  distant 
past  rather  than  in  the  petty,  uninteresting  present  of  his  sur- 
roundings. 

The  literary  heritage  of  Mapu  is  not  large:  four  novels  in  all, 
only  three  of  which  are  extant.  Of  the  fourth  we  have  but  a 
fragment,  the  rest  having  been  destroyed  in  manuscript,  through 
the  machinations  of  his  conservative  adversaries.  Three  of  these 
novels  deal  with  historic  subjects  and  one  with  modern  life. 
"Ahabath  Zion"  (The  Love  of  Zion)  was  the  first  work  produced 
by  him.  It  deals  with  the  times  of  the  prophet  Isaiah  and  of 
the  kings  Ahaz  and  Hezekaiah.  Mapu  began  to  write  it  in 
1831,  but,  in  his  timidity  in  the  face  of  so  great  an  innovation  as 
the  introduction  of  a  new  literary  species,  the  novel,  into  Hebrew 
literature,  he  withheld  it  from  the  public  till  1853.  About  that 
time,  a  bolder  spirit,  Kalman  Schulman,  a  quasi  romantic,  pub- 
Hshed,  with  great  success,  a  translation  of  Eugene  Sue's  "Mys- 
teries of  Paris;"  and  this  daring  feat  encouraged  Mapu  to  pro- 
duce his  own  innovation. 

"Ahabath  Zion"  created  a  sensation  with  the  Hebrew  reading 
public, — a  sensation  due,  to  be  sure,  not  so  much  to  tlie  literary 
value  of  the  book  as  to  the  novelty  of  the  enterprise.  For, 
regarded  from  the  artistic  point  of  view,  this  novel — and  for  that 
matter,  all  Mapu's  novels — has  very  great  defects.  There  is, 
for  example,  no  attempt  at  character  drawing.  His  heroes  are 
not  individualities;  nor  do  they  even  represent  types.  They  are 
pimply  idealizations,  the  offspring  of  the  author's  fancy:  gentlq, 
kind,  of  dove-like  sweetness  and  angelic  beauty;  in  short,  em± 
bodiments  of  virtue  and  loveliness.  Their  activities  are  wholly 
determined  by  external  circumstances.  They  themselves  are 
endowed  with  all  the  weakness  and  timidity  of  the  author,  are  at 
times  rather  cowardly,  afraid  to  run  in  the  face  of  Providence  or 

19 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

of  society,  and  prone  to  seek  their  ends  through  intrigue  rather 
than  through  an  open  display  of  courage.  In  one  respect,  how- 
ever, Mapu's  heroes  are  Homeric,  in  that  they  are  ever  ready  to 
weep,  whether  the  occasion  call  for  tears  or  not. 

All  this  is  generally  true  of  Mapu's  virtuous  heroes.  His 
villains — ordinarily  as  misshapen  in  body  as  in  soul — do  show 
some  individuality  and  strength  of  character.  This  fact  mani- 
fests more  than  anything  else  the  influence  of  the  French  romantic 
novelists  of  the  Eugene  Sue  type,  in  whose  novels,  as  in  those  of 
Mapu,  we  admire  the  rogues  more  than  the  namby-pamby, 
washed-out  heroes.  Take,  for  example,  Reumah,  one  of  the 
characters  in  Mapu's  second  historical  novel,  "Ashmath- 
Shomeron"  (The  Guilt  of  Samaria),  a  sort  of  depraved  Joan  of 
Arc,  of  the  kingdom  of  Ephraim,  who  is  the  daughter  of  a  prof- 
ligate mother  and  of  Zichri,  "the  hero  of  Ephraim,"  the  proto- 
type of  the  cruel,  corrupt  mediaeval  robber-knight.  The  author 
designed  to  embody  in  this  heroine  the  cruelty  of  her  father  as 
well  as  the  depravity  of  her  mother.  Yet,  Reumah  is  not 
entirely  unsympathetic.  It  is  true  that  she  is  the  rallying  point 
of  the  wild  orgies  in  Ephraim;  but  she  is,  at  the  same  time,  the 
object  of  inspiration  for  the  Ephraimitish  young  men  in  honest 
warfare,  and  though  violent  in  love,  she  is  constant.  Similarly 
Mapu's  other  rogues,  though  more  villainous  than  the  one 
(  described  above,  are  imposing  at  least  with  their  strenuous 
wickedness. 

•  /  The  native  powers  of  Mapu,  then,  lie  not  in  character  drawing, 
/  but  rather  in  his  plot  and  in  the  charm  of  his  story  telling.  This 
L  charm  arises  from  a  naivity,  from  an  innocent,  firm  belief  in  the 
final  victory  of  good  over  evil, — and  in  it,  as  well  as  in  a  successful 
imitation  of  the  picturesqueness,  though  not  of  the  strength,  of 
the  Isaianic  style,  lies  his  success.  All  this  is  particularly  true 
of  the  first  novel  of  Mapu,  "Ahabath  Zion."  Here,  the  plot  is 
simple  and  smooth,  and  it  runs  swiftly  along,  carrying  the 
interest  of  the  reader  with  it.  Yet,  even  in  this  story  there  are 
some  unfilled  gaps  and  a  number  of  questionable  knots  in  the 
weaving  of  the  plot.     This  defect  is  still  more  apparent  in  his 

20 


/■  '6  ,  _ 

ROMANTICISM;  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL        ^>^^ 

longer  novels:  "Ashmath  Shomeron"  (two  parts)  and  "Ayit 
Zabiia"  (five  parts)..  Here,  especially  in  the  latter,  the  thread  of 
the  story  is  much  more  of  a  tangle  than  in  "  Ahabath  Zion."  The 
intricacies  of  the  plot,  though  skillfully  formed,  are  rather  hard^ 
to  follow;  and  the  same  is  true  of  their  unravelling  in  the  denoue-  _ 
ment, — where  the  discrepancies  are  more  apparent  in  these  two 
novels  than  in  his  first  book.  Some  unnecessary  incidents  are 
conjured  up  for  no  other  reason  apparently  than  to  lend  more 
complication  to  the  incidents,  and  interstices  are  often  left  open, 
because  the  heroes  do  not  possess  the  strength  to  carry  their 
decisions  into  action.  Mapu,  in  his  romantic  zeal,  moreover, 
sometimes  overdraws  the  situation.  Placing  the  scenes  of 
activity  of  his  first  two  novels  in  Palestine,  during  the  decadence 
of  the  northern  kingdom,  Ephraim,  he  contrasts  the  life  of  the 
Judeans  with  that  of  the  Ephraimites,  painting  the  former  in  the 
most  ideal  and  the  latter  in  the  darkest  colors.  Zion,  or,  more 
specifically,  Jerusalem,  is  for  ]\Iapu  an  enchanted  Camelot, 
where  the  people,  at  least,  the  aristocracy,  are  knights  sans  peur 
et  sans  reproche;  and  if  there  chance  to  be  a  plotter  or  rogue 
among  them,  he  generally  hails  from  Samaria.  Ephraim,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  represented  in  all  that  drunkenness  and  vile 
corruption,  against  which  the  prophet  Isaiah  launches  his  most 
effective  denunciations. 

The  tendencies  and  ideas  represented  ii^Magu's  novels^^yjg 
rather  conservative.  The  heroes  are  usualb^orn  into  the  aris- 
tocracy— the  nobility  or  the  money-aristocracy, — with  whom  he 
'sympathizes  more  than  with  the  masses.  In  general,  his  romap-  v 
ticism  is  not  of  the  revolutionary,  Byronic,  type.  Neither  is  u 
it  pessimistic  of  the  type  of  Leopardi,  or  mystical  of  the  Ger- 
man type.  He  was  too  gentle  for  the  first  kind  and  too  much 
of  a  modern  Jew  for  the  other  two, — his  indulgence  in  the 
Kabbalah  being  merely  a  youthful  vagary.  His  was  rather  a 
romanticism  of  the  type  of  the  "Lake  School"  poets:  dreamy 
idyllic,  quietistic, — indulging  in  the  vague  rather  than  in  the 
"mystip.  To  these  characteristics  is  due  the  fact  that  Map 
heroes  always  yearn  for  the  _ciuiet  to  be  found  in  the  bosom  of 

21 


:he      \ 
u's    J 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

natujg.  This  longing  stands  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  stirring 
incidents  and  vicissitudes  which  they  undergo, — incidents  in 
which,  it  is  true,  they  play  rather  a  passive  part.  It  is  natural, 
therefore,  that  we  find  in  his  novels  some  fine  romantic  descrip- 
tions of  nature,  coupled  with  praise  and  admiration  for  idyllic 
life. 

These  characteristics  are,  to  a  greater  or  lesser  degree,  true  of 
all  Mapu's  novels.  In  "Ayit  Zabua"  (The  Painted  Hawk), 
however,  a  story  of  modern  life,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  different 
atmosphere  from  that  of  his  other  two  novels,  aside  from  the  fact 
that  the  latter  represent  a  different  mode  of  life.  The  publi-_ 
cation  of  "Ayit  Zabua"  falls  in  a  new  period  in  the  life  of  eastern 
7ewry  and  Hebrew  literature,— a  period  that  will  be  dealt  with 
at  length  in  a  future  chapter.  Here,  it  may  be  said  in  brief, 
that  the  tendencies  of  the  new  period  were  those  of  the  Haskalah 
movement  in  its  second  stage.  At  that  time  the  demand  for 
religious  reforms  became  loud  and  the  struggle  acute  between 
old  beliefs  and  a  modern  interpretation  of  religion.  And  these 
tendencies  are  reflected  in  ]Mapu's  novel  of  modern  times,  "Ayit 
Zabua."  Traces  of  this  conflict  may  be  found,  to  be  sure,  even 
in  his  historic  novels.  Zimri,  in  "  Ahabath  Zion,"  for  example,  is 
a  type  of  hypocrite  later  developed  by  Mapu  in  Rabbi  Zadok,  the 
villain  of  "Ayit  Zabua,"  and  the  false  Ephraimite  prophet  in 
"  Ashmath  Shomeron"  is  an  earlier  version  of  the  wonder-worker 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  But  it  is  in  "Ayit  Zabua"  that 
we  find  ourselves  right  in  the  midst  of  the  struggle.  Upon  re- 
ligious reforms  as  such,  Mapu,  indeed,  touches  only  off-handedly; 
but  the  atmosphere  of  the  novel  is  militant.  The  hypocrites, 
that  is  to  say,  the  extreme  orthodox,  are  arrayed  in  battle  against 
the  enlightened,  the  Maskilim,  the  religious  reformers, — with  the 
natural  result — natural  from  the  point  of  view  of  Mapu — that 
the  latter  ultimately  carry  off  the  victory. 

Such  is  Mapu  the  romantic  and  the  father  of  the  Hebrew  novel. 
He  is  no  creator  of  character;  nor  is  his  plot  flawless.  His  suc- 
cess lies  in  the  charm  of  his  story  telling  rather  than  in  the 
logical  sequence  of  events.     By  dint  of  this  and  by  his  successful 

22 


ROMANTICISM;  CREATION  OF  THE  HEBREW  NOVEL 

application  of  Biblical  phraseology  to  his  subject^  he  exerted 
considerable  influence  upon  the  further  development  of  Hebrew 
hterature;  and  by  reason  of  this  charm  his  "Ahabath  Zion." 
became  a  classic  read  with  delight  by  old  and  young  even  in  our 
own  time. 


23 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  HASKALAH  MOVEMENT 

1.  The  Movement;  the  Newspaper  and  the  Magazine 

The  romantic  movement  in  Hebrew  literature,  for  the  reasons 
given  above,  was  incidental  and  of  short  duration.  Besides  the 
two  representatives  discussed  in  the  preceding  chapter,  very  few 
writers  tried  their  hand  at  the  romantic  poem  or  sto^y.  Thence- 
forth, from  about  1860  to  1880,  roughly  speaking,  Hebrew 
literature  resumed  its  old  Haskalah  tradition,  though  on  a  di- 
vergent line,  subjecting  to  its  tendencies  the  newly  acquired 
literary  domain,  the  novel,  as  well  as  the  poem  and  the  newspaper. 
What  was  the  new  departure  in  the  Haskalah  movement?  In 
its  first  stage  the  sentiment  of  the  Maskilim  had,  to  a  great 
pxtent,  been  purely  educational.  The  Haskalah  had  concerned 
itself  with  the  mind  rather  than  with  the  life  of  the  Jew.  It  had 
"Hbeen  an  idea,  not  a  passion.  Now,  all  this  was  changed.  The 
Haskalah  movement  became  a  passionate  advocate  in  behalf  of 
Jewish  life  and  Jewish  reality.  Moreover,— and  this  was  the 
main  feature  of  the  new  stage  of  the  movement — the  attitude 
towards  Jewish  religion,  which  before  had  been  conciliatory, 
now  became  threatening.  Demands  were  put  forward  for 
religious  reforms,  such  as  it  was  impossible  for  the  orthodox  Jew 
to  grant.     A  conflict  was,  therefore,  inevitable. 

The  cause  of  this  new  drift  in  the  movement  is  to  be  sought  not 

so  much  in  the  inherent  character  of  the  latter  as  in  the  new 

#  influence  by  which  it  was  now  swayed.     Previously — since  the 

/  Haskalah  originally  hailed  from  Berlin — it  had  stood  under  the 

I    influence  of   German  literature,   where  the  opposition  to  the 

I    existing  social,  religious,  and  political  institutions  had  not  been 

^^o  pronounced  as  in  later  Russian  literature.     Now,  however, 

it  was  the  turn  of  the  latter  to  bring  some  of  its  ideas  to  bear  upon 

the  Haskalah  and  Hebrew  literature.     The  greatest  impulse  to 

the  introduction  of  Russian  ideas  into  the  Pale  was  given  by 

24 


> 


THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  HASKALAH  MOVEMENT 

the  educational  opportunities  offered  to  the  Jews  by  Alexander  II. 
Some  endeavors  in  this  direction  had  indeed  been  made  by 
Nicholas  I,  who  had  established  secular  schools  for  the  Jews  in 
many  large  centers.  But,  as  these  efforts  on  his  part  had  been 
in  glaring  contrast  to  his  political  attitude  towards  the  Jews, 
they  had  not  met  with  success,  being  regarded  with  suspicion  as 
an  expression  of  sinister  intentions.  Yet,  the  way  had  been  pre- 
pared; and  when  the  more  magnanimous  Alexander  II  threw 
open  the  doors  of  the  high  schools  and  the  universities  to  the 
Jewish  people,  the  latter  took  ample  advantage  of  this  liberality 
and  flocked  thither  with  that  fervidness  and  thirst  for  knowledge, 
which  have  always  been  characteristic  of  the  race.  In  this 
manner,  the  Jews  came  into  closer  contact  with  Russian  life, 
Russian  culture,  Russian  ideas  and  literature.  What  wonder, 
therefore,  that  Russian  influences  now  began  to  assert  themselves 
in  Hebrew  life  and  letters? 

What  was  the  condition  of  Russian  literature  at  that  time? 
Russia  had  just  passed  through  a  period  of  literary  reaction, 
which  had  ended  with  the  death  of  Nicholas  I,  and  was  striking 
out  in  an  entirely  different  direction.  Writers  such  as  Herzen,  j 
Pisarev,  Dobrolubov,  Tschernishefsky,  Turgeniev,  Dostoyevsky  I 
(in  his  first  years),  and  Tolstoy  were  laying  their  impress  upon  it 
and  were  leading  it  on  the  path  of  radicalism.  And  this  radi- 
calism did  not  express  itself  in  mere  revolutionary  ideas.  It 
was — particularly  in  the  case  of  the  critics  Pisarev  and  Tschernis- 
hefsky— of  a  coarser  fibre.  It  constituted  what  is  popularly 
known  as  nihilism  and  became,  from  the  point  of  view  of  litera- 
ture,  a  gross  materialism,  which  discouraged  poetic  activities 
and  which  esteemed,  let  us  say,  Biichner's  "Force  and  Matter" 
far  above  the  creations  of  a  Poushkin. 

Among  the  Russians  themselves,  this  spirit  penetrated  every 
phase  of  life:  social,  religious,  and  political.  It  is  true  that 
political  conditions  were  of  a  nature  such  as  to  curb  any  open 
attack  upon  the  established  order;  but  the  revolutionary  spirit 
asserted  itself  in  spite  of  all  restraint  and  persecution,  cropping 
out  through  every  crevice  and  cranny  in  life  and  in  literature. 

25 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

When  its  influence  reached  the  Jewish  Pale,  however,  it  found 
but  one  native  element  which  it  could  combat  and  upon  which 
it  could  force  reforms — religion.  For,  as  the  political  and 
economic,  and,  in  a  measure,  even  the  social,  life  of  the  Jews  was 
being  created  for  them  by  an  external  force,  to  fight  against  which 
within  the  enclosures  of  the  Ghetto  would  have  been  like  trying 
to  sail  on  dry  land,  there  remained  only  the  religious  life  that 
was  of  their  own  making  and  that  they  could  fashion  at  their  will. 
Moreover,  the  whole  matter  rested  upon  a  somewhat  mistaken 
conception  of  Judaism,  For,  at  that  time,  Judaism  was  not  yet 
variedly  interpreted  and  differentiated,  into  nationalism  and 
religion,  two  factors  working  independently  of  each  other,  but 
was  confined  within  the  circumscribed  limits  of  religion,  with 
which  Jewish  life  and  Jewish  reality  were  inseparably  connected . 
Reforms  in  Jewish  religion,  therefore,  meant  for  the  radical 
«  reforms  in  Jewish  life.  And  more  than  this.  The  Maskil,  the 
Jewish  liberal,  labored  under  the  false  assumption  that  it  was 
the  Jewish  customs,  the  religious  beliefs  or  misbeliefs,  which 
stood  as  a  barrier  between  the  Jew  and  the  non-Jew,  between  the 
Jew  and  his  own  happiness.  Hence  the  zeal  of  the  Maskil  for 
religious  reforms. 

This  religious  struggle  was  taken  up  particularly  by  the 
Hebrew  wing  of  the  Maskilim,  the  Hebrew  writers  and  their 
adherents,  those  who  had  enjoyed  a  more  or  less  thorough  Hebrew 
education.  The  Russo-Jewish  wing,  the  professionals,  the 
graduates  of  Russian  universities,  had  another  mission  before 
them,— supplementary  to  that  of  the  Hebrew  wing:  to  present  a 
bold  front  to  the  external  enemy  and  to  rouse  public  opinion 
against  Jewish  disabilities,  for  which  purpose  they  established 
Russo-Jewish  new^spapers  and  created  a  considerable  Russo- 
Jewish  literature.  Now  and  then,  to  be  sure,  there  would  take 
place,  on  their  part  too,  some  skirmishing  in  behalf  of  religious 
reforms ;  but  this  would  happen  rather  in  order  to  pay  tribute  to 
the  spirit  of  the  time  than  as  a  matter  of  real  necessity, — for 
the  Russo-Jewish  readers  had  long  before  departed  from  tradi- 
tional Judaism,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word. 

26 


THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  HASKALAH  MOVEMENT 

This  zeal  for  religious  reform  evinced  by  the  intellectuals  was, 
however,  by  no  means  shared  by  the  masses.  In  the  first  place, 
both  the  Hebrew  and  the  Russo-Jewish  wings  spoke  in  languages 
not  understood  by  the  people  at  large.  Then,  again,  their 
tendencies  were  of  too  negative  a  character  to  be  attractive  to 
"^"he  latter;  for  though  they  were  of  service  to  Judaism  by  curbing., 
superstition  and  making  a  breach  in  the  Ghetto  wall  to  admits 
some  fresh  air  from  without,  yet  they  did  not  offer  the  key  they 
had  promised  to  the  solution  of  the  Jewish  problem.  The 
Maskilim,  therefore,  did  not  get  a  large  following  from  among  the 
masses;  but,  on  the  contrary,  provoked  their  antagonism.  As  a 
consequence,  Jewish  society  was  divided  into  two  antagonistic 
camps.  There  were,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Maskilim,  who  formed 
the  Jewish  aristocracy,  distinguished  from  the  masses  both  in 
outward  appearance  and  in  psychology,  vain,  superficial,  ration- 
alistic in  ideas  and  often  loose  in  morals,  inclined  towards  assimi- 
lation ;  idealistic  and  with  missionary  zeal  in  their  youthful  days, 
but  cynical,  selfish,  indifferent  to  Jewish  affairs — an  indifference 
tantamount  at  times  to  actual  Jew-hatred — when  youthful 
idealism  had  evaporated.  On  the  other  hand,  there  was  the 
bulk  of  the  Jewish  people,  clinging  to  ancient  traditions,  fanatic, 
superstitious,  opposed  to  any  innovation,  looking  at  the  Maskilim 
with  suspicion,  and  persecuting  them  whenever  possible. 

This  was  the  atmosphere  that  surrounded  Hebrew  literature, 
and  these  were  the  influences  and  tendencies  by  which  it  was 
swayed  during  the  second  stage  of  the  Haskalah  period. 

Under  these  circumstances,  when  Hebrew  literature  was  getting 
a  hold  upon  Jewish  life  and  Jewish  reality,  it  was  natural  for  the 
newspaper  and  the  magazine  to  begin  playing  a  role  in  Hebrew 
literature,  gradually  occupying  the  place  of  the  quasi-scientific, 
quasi-literary  magazine  of  the  first  stage  of  the  Haskalah  period. 
Thus  in  185G  there  was  established  the  first  Hebrew  weekly^^ 
'*Ha-Maggid."  Its  place  of  publication,  it  is  true,  was  Lyck, 
Austria;  but  it  was  merely  a  literary  makeshift  on  the  part  of 
Silberman,  the  editor,  who,  though  a  Russian  Maskil,  established 

■  27 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

the  newspaper  abroad,  because  of  the  difficulties  met  with  in 
Russia  in  a  new  undertaking  of  the  kind.  He  counted,  however, 
upon  Russian  Jewry  as  his  main  support,  and  the  Maskilim  of 
that  country,  on  their  part,  regarded  the  "  Ha-Maggid  "  as  their 
own  organ. 

The  standard  of  the  Ha-Maggid,  both  as  a  newspaper  and  as  a 
Hterary  magazine,  was  by  no  means  high.  Silberman  himself 
was  a  mere  literary  upstart,  who  had  neither  the  knowledge  nor 
the  literary  ability  for  the  undertaking.  And  these  defects  were 
stamped  upon  the  features  of  the  newspaper.  It  hardly  offered 
a  trace  of  the  "leader,"  or  editorial,  in  its  columns;  it  took  up  no 
live  topic  to  discuss, — and  it  never  uttered  a  cry  of  revolt  against 
the  grinding  oppression  of  the  Jews  in  Russia  or  elsewhere.  Its 
main  features  as  a  newspaper  were  the  items  of  news  and  corre- 
spondences. Otherwise,  its  contents  were  similar  to  those  of 
the  magazine  of  the  previous  period:  poems  of  occasion,  notes 
on  Biblical  exegesis,  and  quasi-scientific  treatises.  Moreover, 
the  Hebrew  style  of  the  "  Ha-Maggid  "  was  generally  cramped, 
stilted,  and  ungrammatical.  Yet  the  paper  was  received  by 
the  Maskilim  with  enthusiasm,  for  it  was,  after  all,  the  first 
newspaper  in  Hebrew;  and,  as  Silberman  possessed  the  energy 
and  force  of  will  to  continue  its  publication  under  conditions 
however  unfavorable,  there  gradually  rallied  about  him  some 
of  the  ablest  writers  of  the  time,  who  finally  succeeded  in  giving 
it  the  semblance  of  a  real  newspaper. 

The  "Ha-Maggid"  published  abroad  could,  however,  not  for 
long  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  Russian  Hebraists,  among  whom 
life  was  becoming  tenser  and  more  effervescent.  Accordingly, 
there  sprang  up,  during  1860-62,  three  Hebrew  weeklies  in 
Russia  itself:  "Ha-Karmel,"  "Ha-Zefirah,"  and  "Ha-Mehz." 
The  "  Ha-Karmel,"  published  in  Wilna,  "the  Lithuanian  Jerusa- 
lem," which  was  then  a  nest  of  the  Maskilim  of  the  older  stamp, 
was  edited  by  Samuel  Joseph  Fuenn.  Fuenn  was  a  Maecenas  of 
Hebrew  literature,  a  well  known  scholar  and  the  author  of  several 
works,  the  most  important  of  which  are:  "Ha-Ozar"  (1884), 
an  encyclopedic  Hebrew  dictionary,  and  a  history  of  the  Jews, 

28 


THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  HASKALAH  MOVEMENT 

in  two  volumes,  the  spirit  of  which  is  traditional-rationahstic 
and  the  arrangement  a  medley.  The  "  Ha-Karmel  "  was  an  im- 
provement upon  the  "  Ha-Maggid."  Its  Hebrew  was  more  cor-- 
rect,  the  news  more  interesting,  and  the  material  more  taste- 
fully arranged;  yet  as  a  newspaper  it  did  not  stand  on  a  much 
higher  plane  than  the  latter. 

Nor  did  the  "  Ha-Zefirah  "  rise  to  a  much  higher  level.  This 
weekly  was  established  in  Warsaw,  in  1862,  by  H.  S.  Slonimsky. 
It  was  discontinued  after  an  existence  of  some  six  months,  reap- 
peared in  Berlin  twelve  years  later  and  from  there  was  transferred 
back  to  Warsaw.  Slonimsky  was  less  of  a  Hebrew  scholar  than 
Fuenn;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  a  mathematician  and  an  as- 
tronomer of  originality  and  inventiveness,  who  was  famed  as  such 
not  only  in  Hebrew  circles,  but  also  in  the  non- Jewish  world.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  "  Ha-Zefirah,"  while  under  his  editorship  (1862-80), 
became  a  popular  scientific  newspaper, — but  not  much  more. 

All  these  weeklies,  though  distinctly  to  be  classed  among  the 
products  of  the  new  phase  of  the  Haskalah  period,  still  repre- 
sented in  essence  the  spirit  of  the  old  stage.  Neither  the  dis- 
heartening relation  of  the  outside  world  to  the  Jewish  people, 
nor  the  internal  religious  conflict  that  was  just  arising  in  Jewry, 
were  reflected,  to  a  sufficient  extent,  in  these  newspapers.  The 
first  Hebrew  weekly  that  really  approached  the  standard  of  a 
modern  newspaper  and,  at  the  same  time,  represented  the  spirit 
of  the  age  of  the  Haskalah,  was  the  "Ha-Meliz,"  established  in 
1860  in  Odessa,  by  Alexander  Zederbaum  and  Goldenblum.  The 
former,  who  was  the  editor  in  chief,  was  neither  a  Hebrew  scholar 
like  Fuenn  nor  a  man  of  science  like  Slonimsky;  but  he  was  more 
a  man  of  the  world  than  either,  and  was,  besides,  endowed  with 
marked  energy,  good  common  sense,  and  earnestness  of  purpose. 
With  these  qualities  he  not  only  succeeded  in  making  the  "  Ha- 
Meliz  "  a  respectable  newspaper,  expressing  the  spirit  of  that  age, 
but  he  was  versatile  enough  to  grasp  the  new  situation  brought 
about,  after  1880,  by  the  revival  period — to  be  treated  in  a  sub- 
sequent chapter — in  Russian  Jewry,  and  make  his  newspaper  the 
organ  of  the  new  movement. 

29 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

As  to  the  tendency  of  the  "  Ha-Meliz,"  its  title  is  indicative 
enough  and  Hkewise  characteristic  of  the  age:    "The  Ha-MeHz 
(interpreter)    between   the   People   and   the    Government   and 
between   Rehgion   and   Enhghtenment."     And   the   newspaper 
really  carried  out  its  program.     "An  intermediary  between  re- 
ligion and  enlightenment," — that  was  really  a  euphemism  for 
"partisan  of  religious  reforms."     Hence  it  became  the  center  of 
the  Haskalah  conflict.     As  for  it  becoming  an  interpreter  between 
the  Jewish  people  and  the  government,  its  attitude  towards  the 
latter  was  much  more  flattering  than  towards  the  former.     And 
for  good  reason.     The  Maskilim  believed  that  the  educational 
opportunities  then  granted  to  the  Jews  in  Russia  were  the  begin- 
I  nings   of  their  ultimate  emancipation.     Hence,   the  policy   of 
/  being  "quieter  than  water  and  lower  than  grass" — as  the  Russian 
/  saying  goes — that  the  Jewish  press  of  the  time  assumed  in  respect 
I    to  Jewish  oppression,  and  hence  the  flattering,  nay  the  fawning, 
1^  attitude  towards  the  government. 

Besides  these  weeklies,  there  were  also  a  few  Hebrew  monthlies, 
which  embraced  the  cause  of  the  Haskalah.  "He-Haluz" 
(1866-1889)  was  edited  by  J.  H.  Shorr.  Being  a  Galician  Jew, 
the  editor  was  loyal  to  the  traditions  of  the  Maskilim  of  his 
country,  the  creators  of  the  so-called  "Jewish  Science,"  in  that 
he  allotted  a  liberal  space  in  his  magazine  to  this  "Hokmath 
Yisrael."  He  outstripped  them,  however,  in  historic  investi- 
gation; for,  whereas  they  handled  the  Scriptures  and  other  sacred 
books  with  all  deference  and  veneration,  he,  on  the  contrary, 
introduced  higher  Biblical  and  Talmudic  criticism  into  the 
Hebrew,  a  thing  unheard  of  until  then  in  that  literature.  He 
engaged  in  this  criticism,  however,  not  merely  with  the  intention 
of  furthering  science,  but  also  with  a  view  to  religious  reform, 
contributing  his  share  to  the  latter  by  the  verve  and  gusto  with 
which  he  attacked  his  subject  as  well  as  by  his  merciless  over- 
hauling of  the  sacred  texts. 

"The  Ha-Shahar,"  another  and  more  successful  monthly,  was 
edited  and  published  in  Vienna  during  the  years  1876-88,  by 

30 


THE  SECOND  STAGE  OF  THE  HASKALAH  MOVEMENT 

Perez  Smolenskin.  Around  this  magazine  there  rallied  a  group 
of  the  ablest  writers  of  the  age,  bearing  aloft  the  standard  of  the 
Haskalah, — writers  such  as  the  philosophico-scientific  Solomon 
Rubin,  the  greatest  Hebrew  poet  of  the  time,  Judah  Loeb  Gordon, 
the  short  story  writer,  M.  D.  Brandstaedter,  the  publicist,  M.  L. 
Lilienblum,  and  the  like.  These  men  came,  each  with  his  pecu- 
liar Haskalah  weapon,  to  launch  attack  after  attack  upon  super- 
stition and  ultra-orthodoxy.  The  "  Ha-Shahar  "  thus  became 
^e  oracle  of  the  Maskilim,  eclipsing  in  influence  all  the  other 
Hebrew  newspapers  and  magazines  of  the  time. 

The  "  Ha-Shahar  "  was,  however,  not  merely  a  Haskalah  peri- 
odical. Its  collaborators,  it  is  true,  were  given  a  free  hand  to 
preach  a  revision  of  the  religious  customs  and  laws,  but  the  editor, 
Smolenskin,  himself  had  a  more  positive  ideal  to  impart  to  his 
readers.  He  was  a  person  of  fiery  temperament,  thorough 
idealism,  and  indomitable  energy,  and,  besides,  he  possessed, 
to  an  extent  unequalled  among  the  other  writers,  a  passionate 
devotion  to  his  people  and  to  Hebrew  literature.  And  all  this 
was  mirrored  in  the  "Ha-Shahar."  In  this  periodical  the  editor 
surprised  the  ]\Taskilim  by  denouncing  the  Haskalah  that  hailed 
from  Berlin,  particularly  that  phase  of  it  which,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  countenanced  assimilation.  He,  moreover,  car- 
ried on  a  vigorous  propaganda  for  Jewish  nationalism,  the 
revival  of  Hebrew,  and,  later,  for  the  rehabilitation  of  Palestine. 
These  characteristics  mark  both  Smolenskin  and  the  "  Ha-Sha- 
har "  as  forerunners  of  the  revival  period  in  Jewry,  by  dint  of 
which  they  exerted  a  tremendous  influence  on  Hebrew  literature. 

Partly  in  zeal  for  the  Berlin  Haskalah,  but  mainly,  it  seems, 
from  more  personal  motives^  Gottlober,  a  versifier  greatly  admired 
in  his  day,  estabhshed  the  monthly  ''Ha-Boker  Or"  (1876-86), 
m  opposition  to  the  "Ha-Shahar."  The  "Ha-Boker  Or"  dis- 
played neither  the  critical  acumen  of  the  "  He-Haluz  "  nor  the  fire 
and  earnestness  of  the  "  Ha-Shahar."  It  succeeded,  however, 
in  gathering  about  itself  a  group  of  able  writers,  admirers,  and 
adherents,  and  it  exerted  some  influence  upon  its  generation. 


31 


CHAPTER  III 

FICTION    DURING   THE    SECOND    STAGE    OF   THE    HASKALAH 
PERIOD;   LITERARY  CRITICISM 

1.  The  Novel  and  the  Short  Story 

The  Haskalah  novel  proper  really  begins  with  "Ayit  Zabua" 
r  (1860),  a  story  by  A.  Mapu.  The  creator  of  the  Hebrew  novel 
Vwas  also  the  first  to  introduce  into  it  the  Haskalah  conflict. 
TKe  story  form  for  Haskalah  purposes  was,  however,  employed 
before  that  time  by  Isaac  Erter  (1792-1851),  a  Galician  physician. 
Erter  wrote  a  few  combative  essays  in  the  form  of  fantastic 
stories,  which  were  collected  after  his  death  and  republished  in 
one  volume  under  the  title  "Ha-Zofeh  LeBeth  Yisrael"  (1858). 
The  historic  relation  of  the  "  Ha-Zofeh,"  or,  rather,  the  various 
stories  in  it,  to  the  Hebrew  novel  is  similar  to  that  of  "  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley"  to  the  English  novel,  with  this  difference  that  the 
"Ha-Zofeh"  is  more  fantastic  than  "Sir  Roger."  "Gilgul  Nefesh" 
may  serve  as  the  most  illustrative  example  of  the  book.  It  is 
the  autobiography  of  a  soul  in  process  of  transmigration  for 
several  hundred  years,  and  is  a  criticism  of  every  phase  of  Jewish 
public  life,  particularly  the  life  and  institutions  of  the  Hasidim, 
those  scapegoats  of  the  Haskalah  literature.  The  spirit  is  here 
rationalistic  of  the  Voltairian  kind,  and  there  is  no  appreciation 
of  the  poetry  and  the  deeper  religious  sentiment  of  Hasidism. 
'T3ut  the  humor  is  exquisite  and  the  description  of  the  various 
transitions  of  the  soul  from  body  to  body,  human  and  beastly 
alternately,  shows  art  and  imagination.  The  reception  accorded 
the  "  Ha-Zafeh  "  was  indeed  so  favorable,  that  it  was  eventually 
canonized  among  the  classics  of  Hebrew  literature. 

To  return  to  Mapu's  "Painted  Hawk."  It  may  here  be 
added,  to  the  account  given  of  it  in  the  first  chapter,  that  in  this 
story  are  found  the  faults  of  Mapu's  historic  novels  without  their 
merits.  In  the  "  Painted  Hawk,"  the  Biblical  inspiration,  for 
which  Mapu  was  so  well  adapted  by  his  gentle  and  romantic 
nature,  was  no  longer  at  work.     He  now  had  to  draw  largely  upon 

32 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

his  own  resources;  and  as  there  was  an  inherent  weakness  and 
helplessness  about  his  personality,  he  imparted  these  tempera- 
mental defects  to  his  heroes  and  to  the  story  as  a  whole.  The 
plot,  though  developed  rather  skillfully,  is  not  marked  by  any 
action  worthy  of  the  name;  and  in  the  end  the  situation  is  saved 
by  a  deus  ex  machina  in  the  form  of  a  rich  uncle,  who  bequeathes 
to  his  heroes  a  goodly  sum,  sufficient  to  live  "happily  for  ever 
after."  And  for  all  these  faults  we  are  no  longer  compensated 
by  the  Biblical  charm  which  generally  radiates  from  Mapu' 
other  works.  Furthermore,  even  his  Hebrew  style  loses  in  this 
novel  a  great  deal  of  its  beauty.  Dealing  with  a  modern  subject, 
the  author  makes  an  attempt  at  modernizing  also  his  style,  em- 
ploying, though  very  sparingly,  some  neo-Hebraic  terms  and 
expressions, — with  the  result  that  his  Hebrew  forfeits  much 
of  its  pristine  picturesqueness,  without  gaining  in  precision. 
On  the  same  level  with  "Ayit  Zabua  "  (The  Painted  Hawk), 
ly  place  "Ha-Aboth  WeHa-Banim"  (Fathers  and  Children, 
I&y  S.  J.  Abramovitz.  The  title  was  probably  suggested 
!^rgeniev's  novel  of  the  same  name,  with  which,  however, 
it  has  nothing  in  common,  except  that  in  both  novels  there  is 
portrayed  the  difference  between  the  old  generation  and  the 
new.  This  story  does  not  as  yet  betray  the  genius  of  the  author, 
Abramovitz,  who  was  later  to  become  the  great  story  writer 
of  the  Yiddish  and  Hebrew  literatures.  It  lacks  the  broad 
human  sympathies  that  we  find  in  his  later  works.  The  atmo- 
sphere is  entirely  that  of  the  Haskalah:  the  old  generation,  the 
pious,  is  foolish  and  brutish;  the  young  generation,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  Haskalah  views  and  tendencies,  is  idealized  and 
"painted  in  glowing  colors.  The  style  of  this  novel  is  still  that  of 
the  age  of  the  Haskalah.  There  is  no  trace  of  the  exuberance, 
the  suggestiveness,  and  the  humor — due  to  stylistic  combi- 
nation— ^that  are  to  be  found  in  his  later  works,  but  use  is  still 
made  of  the  conventional  Melizah,  or  mosaic  style  characteristic 
of  the  period.  Yet,  even  in  this  story,  we  find,  now  and  then,  a 
Hebraized  Yiddish  colloquialism,  a  conceit  that  he  later  de- 
veloped very  successfully.  There  is,  moreover,  an  attempt  at 
4  33 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

observation  and  description  of  nature,  a  thing  sadly  wanting  in 
most  of  the  other  Haskalah  works.  In  one  more  particular, 
however,  Abramovitz  here  distinguishes  himself  from  the  other 
Maskilim:  they  were  generally  aristocratic  in  their  inclinations; 
^  he  extends  his  sympathies  towards  the  uneducated  masses.  He 
believes  that  they  should  be  provided  with  works  presenting 
their  own  humble  life  and  written  in  their  own  language,  Yiddish . 
Abramovitz,  therefore,  suiting  his  action  to  his  words,  soon 
abandoned  Hebrew  for  Yiddish  literature,  returning  to  the 
former  only  after  it  had  acquired  some  measure  of  popularity 
among  the  masses. 

These  novels,  and  a  few  others  of  the  kind,  were,  however, 
merely  transitional.  They  represented,  it  is  true,  the  Haskalah 
tendencies;  but  the  Haskalah  conflict  with  religion  was  not  yet 
so  clearly  pronounced  in  them.  This  conflict  attained  its  fullest 
expression  in  the  novel  "Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim/'  (Religion  and 
Life,  1876),  by  R.  A.  Braudes.  According  to  the  original  plan 
of  the  author,  the  story  was  to  consist  of  five  parts,  but  only 
three  of  these  were  ever  published.  Of  these  three  parts,  the 
first  two  alone  are  important  for  our  purpose,  having  been 
written  during  the  most  exciting  days  of  the  Haskalah.  In 
this  work  all  the  combustible  material  of  the  conflict  was  gathered 
together  and  set  ablaze,  and  in  it  all  the  faults  and  the  merits  of 
the  period  can  be  discovered.  Yet  the  story  has  some  praise- 
worthy features  of  its  own. 

To  a  Jew  of  our  own  age,  to  whom  religion  has  become  a  matter 
of  mere  personal  belief,  which  does  not  interfere  with  his  com- 
munal interests,  the  motive  of  "  Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim  "  would 
seem  flimsy  enough;  but  at  that  time,  the  questions  this  author 
raised  were  of  vital  importance,  at  least,  so  they  seemed  to  the 
Maskilim.  These  questions  hinge  upon  the  minutiae  of  the 
Jewish  Law.  The  author,  it  is  true,  is  leading  up,  in  the  course 
of  the  story,  to  more  essential  religious  issues;  but  the  novel 
breaks  off  before  reaching  the  more  interesting  struggle,  probably 
by  reason  of  the  inability  of  the  author  to  cope  with  a  more 
strenuous  situation. 

34 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

With  all  this,  however,  there  is  certainly  a  great  advance  in  this  1 
novel  over,  say,  Mapu's  "  Painted  Hawk,"  both  [in  construction  and 
in  characterization.  Though  incident  and  tendency  are  welded 
together,  yet  the  plot  is  by  no  means  flimsy,  as  one  would  expect 
*n  a  novel  of  purpose, — both  elements  being  harmoniously  pro- 
portional. The  plot  is  smooth,  rational,  and  carries  one  along 
agreeably.  In  characterization,  it  is  true,  the  novel  is  not  so 
felicitous.  The  chief  hero,  Samuel,  despite  the  author's  assurance 
that  he  is  the  future  Jewish  Luther,  is  not  quite  convincing. 
Neither  is  he  strong  enough  nor  has  he  knowledge  enough  for  an 
intellectual  religious  reformer.  Yet,  even  he  presents  some  fine 
psychologic  moments.  Witness,  for  example,  the  militant  scene 
in  the  synagog,  between  Samuel  and  the  Rabbi,  when  the  former 
suddenly  breaks  down  on  hearing  the  Rabbi's  decision  no  longer 
to  admit  him  to  his  house,  which  for  Samuel  meant  a  separation 
between  him  and  his  beloved,  the  stepdaughter  of  the  Rabbi. 
Or,  again,  notice  the  internal  struggle  that  Samuel  experiences  at 
the  discovery  that  this  same  sweetheart  of  his  is  a  matter-of-fact, 
materialistic  girl,  who  has  no  sympathy  with  his  reform  tenden- 
cies,— and  then  his  final  rejection  of  her.  It  is  to  be  remarked 
that  Braudes  always  brings  about  a  separation  between  two 
lovers  whose  affection  depends  more  upon  externals  than  upon 
affinity  of  soul,  though,  curiously  enough,  he  argues  both  by 
word  and  by  example,  that  it  is  possible  for  two  people  to  be 
close  friends,  even  though  they  widely  differ  in  temperament  as 
well  as  in  ideas. 

If  Braudes  did  not  depict  a  really  great  hero  in  Samuel,  he 
rose,  on  the  other  hand,  to  some  artistic  height  in  his  minor 
_characters.  Take,  for  example,  the  Talmudic  student,  "The 
Birzian,"  with  his  fickleness  and  his  numerous  amours,  who 
ridicules  Samuel  for  the  depth  of  his  love,  but  who  finally  him- 
self falls  a  victim  to  a  serious  love  affair.  Then,  again,  there  is 
the  old-fashioned  schoolmaster,  with  his  constantly  exposed  chest 
and  uncouth  manners,  whose  open-heartedness,  passionate  and 
pedantic  seeking  after  truth,  and  tribulation  of  mind  at  finding 
himself  influenced  by  Samuel's  eloquent  appeal  for  religious 

35 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

reforms,  lend  him  an  individuality  such  as  Braudes  has  seldom, 
if  ever,  succeeded  in  bestowing  upon  any  of  his  other  characters. 
These  and  a  few  more  minor  characters  are  worthy  of  the  pen  of 
a  great  master. 

All  this  is  true  of  the  first  two  parts  of  the  novel.  The  third 
part,  written  several  years  later,  during  the  twilight  of  the 
Haskalah  period,  bears  a  relation  to  them  akin  to  that  borne  by 
the  second  part  of  Faust  to  the  first.  It  gives  the  impression  of 
an  afterthought.  In  the  first  two  parts  there  is  atmosphere,  fer- 
vor, movement;  there  is  very  little  of  all  this  in  the  third.  Here, 
the  plot  is  shaky,  the  movement  imperceptible,  and  the  chief 
hero,  Samuel,  is  settling  down  to  the  life  of  an  inactive  lover. 
He  becomes  the  sedate  school  teacher  of  a  small  town,  with  a 
touch  of  vague  Socialistic  tendencies  about  him.  In  short, 
when  we  speak  of  "Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim  "  and  its  place  in 
Hebrew  literature,  we  mean  merely  the  first  two  parts  of  the 
novel. 

Braudes  wrote  several  other  stories,  some  of  which  are  almost 
as  important  from  the  literary-historic  point  of  view  as  his 
"Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim,"  though  artistically  they  are  inferior 
to  the  latter.  Two  of  these  novels  are  to  be  mentioned  in  this 
place  as  representing  two  stages  in  the  history  of  Hebrew  litera- 
ture different  from  the  Haskalah  period:  "The  Extremes" 
(1886)  and  "  Whence  and  Whither  "  (1891) .  The  former  pictures 
two  contrasting  phases  of  Jewish  life,  that  of  the  large  city, 
with  its  hollowness  and  polished  superficialities,  and  that  of  the 
small  country  town,  rugged  and  uncouth  externally,  but  serene 
in  its  quietude,  sincere  in  piety,  and  pure  in  family  life.  The 
gist  of  the  story  is  as  follows:  an  inhabitant  of  a  small  town, 
Hezron,  a  Hasid  of  poetic  temperament,  a  husband  and  father, 
comes  to  Odessa  and  is  immediately  charmed  by  its  life  and 
superficial  splendor,  including  a  pretty  girl  of  rather  colorless 
character,  in  whose  meshes  he  becomes  entangled.  This  girl's 
brother,  who  is  somewhat  of  a  rake,  and  who  has  enjoyed  the 
life  of  the  large  city  to  satiety  and  is  now  tired  of  it,  makes  his 
abode,  for  a  time,  in  the  very  town  from  which  his  sister's  lover 

36 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

hails,  and  is  enchanted  by  the  primitive  quaUties  of  the  place, 
plus  the  charms  of  an  innocent  beautiful  country  girl,  the  sister- 
in-law  of  Hezron. 

The  plot,  as  may  easily  be  seen,  is  a  tangle  engendered  in  the 
mind  of  the  author  rather  than  a  mesh  of  incidents  woven  by 
the  fates.  It  is  true,  that,  given  the  atmosphere  of  "The 
Extremes,"  people  might  act  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  of  the 
heroes  in  this  novel;  but  the  plot  as  a  whole  gives  one  the  im- 
pression of  being  forced.  In  the  denouement  the  author  does 
rise  to  some  psychologic  height,  especially  while  extricating  the 
two  main  heroes  from  their  difficulties.  But,  whereas  a  great 
master  would  here  have  found  scope  for  a  pure  tragedy  or 
comedy,  Braudes  introduces  a  deus  ex  machina  in  the  person 
of  a  grandfather,  who  cuts  the  Gordian  knot  and  brings  about  a 
final  disentanglement.  As  to  characterization,  there  is  hardly 
any  worthy  of  the  name.  The  heroes  and  heroines  are  colorless, 
weak,  helpless,  and  weepers  to  the  extent  of  making  the  story  a 
comedie  larmoyanie. 

The  artistic  significance  of  "The  Extremes"  is  thus  not  great. 
Its  importance  lies,  however,  in  the  fact  that  it  presents  a  new 
phase  in  Hebrew  literature, — the  transition  from  the  Haskalah 
to  a  more  modern  period.  The  atmosphere  is  entirely  different 
from  that  of  "  Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim,"  and  the  two  extremes 
depicted  in  this  story  are  not  simply  the  life  of  the  city  as  con- 
trasted with  that  of  the  country.  It  is  the  life  of  Odessa,  worldly 
and  empty  of  Jewish  ideals,  set  over  against  that  of  a  small 
Volhynian  town,  the  habitat  of  Hasidism,  with  its  glowing  fancy 
and  fanaticism.  And,  then,  the  reconciliation  of  the  two  ex- 
tremes through  the  mediation  of  the  grandfather  hailing  from 
Wilna,  the  "Lithuanian  Jerusalem,"  the  abode  of  Haskalah, — 
as  modified  by  Braudes  to  suit  the  purpose  of  his  story — which 
unites  in  itself  both  worldly  wisdom  and  Jewish  learning.  The 
novel  thus  bears  a  somewhat  symbolic  character,  suggesting  the 
possibility  of  a  conciliation  between  worldliness  and  Jewish 
religiosity,  provided  both  relax  somewhat  of  their  rigor. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  significance  of  "  The  Extremes  "  is 

37 


I 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

not  exhausted.  Two  more  features  may  be  pointed  out  as  enhanc- 
ing its  value  as  a  transition  novel :  the  endeavor  of  the  author  at 
a  greater  precision  of  style,  and  his  sympathy  with  the  life  of  the 
Hasidim, — a  sympathy  that  assumed  much  greater  proportions 
in  later  Hebrew  literature. 

Braudes'  other  novel  above  mentioned,  "Whence  and 
Whither,"  was  written  during  the  period  of  the  national  revival, 
its  subject  matter  being  taken  from  that  period.  The  story 
remained  unfinished,  and  is  only  illustrative  of  the  inability  of 
Braudes  to  treat  a  positive  movement. 

The  significance  of  the  productions  of  Braudes,  then,  was  not 
great.  His  creative  powers  were  limited,  at  times  unequal  to 
the  task  in  hand,  failing  here  and  there  to  give  a  finishing  touch 
to  character,  and  now  and  then  leaving  the  work  little  more  than 
a  torso.  The  individual,  moreover,  was  not  freed  in  his  stories 
from  serfdom  to  society  and  social  ideals.  Yet  the  novels  of 
Braudes  have  the  merit  of  reflecting  the  conflicts  and  ambitions 
of  a  whole  period,  as  well  as  of  showing  some  advance  as  regards 
precision  of  style,  coordination  of  incident,  and  improvement  in 
characterization. 

Contemporaneously  with  Braudes,  there  appeared  in  Hebrew 
literature  a  short  story  writer  of  some  talent,  M.  Brandstaedter 
(b.  1844),  Brandstaedter  was  a  prominent  Galician  manu- 
facturer, who  wrote  occasionally,  and  published  only  one  volume 
of  sketches  during  the  Haskalah  period.  He  began  his  literary 
career — if  the  case  of  a  merchant  dallying  with  literature  may 
be  called  a  career — in  1869,  the  same  year  in  which  Smolenskin 
founded  the  "  Ha-Shahar,"  in  which  most  of  Brandstaedter's 
sketches  were  published.  He  stood  under  the  irresistible  influence 
of  Smolenskin,  for  which  reason  he  should  by  rights  be  classed 
among  the  waiters  of  the  transition  period,  were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  he  presented  no  positive  tendency,  and  that  he  was  still 
infused,  to  a  great  extent,  with  the  spirit  of  the  Haskalah. 

Brandstaedter's  works  were  admired  in  their  time  as  the  most 
successful  short  stories  in  Hebrew.     Even  the  modern  reader 

38 


FICTION   DURING  SECOND   STAGE 

will  find  in  them  some  verve,  a  fine  vein  of  humor,  and  a  certain 
mastery  of  technique.  It  would  be  in  vain,  however,  to  look 
in  his  stories  for  any  sort  of  characterization.  In  this  respect,  he 
was  entirely  the  child  of  the  Haskalah  age,  for  which  the  problem 
was  the  main  issue.  And  to  the  credit  of  Brandstaedter  be  it 
said  that  the  problem  for  him  was  not  merely  religious  reform. 
In  his  sketches  he  ridicules  not  only  the  Hasidim,  but  also  the 
superficial  lustre  of  the  Haskalah, — of  that  Haskalah  which 
consists  in  teaching  the  children  to  prate  a  few  words  of  French, 
to  despise  everything  Jewish,  and  to  affect  an  air  of  romance 
borrowed  from  the  French  novel.  The  following  scene,  from 
one  of  his  sketches,  may  serve  as  an  ilhistration  of  the  manner  in 
which  he  satirized  the  superficiality  and  affectation  resulting 
from  this  sort  of  education: 

"Simon  (a  coxcomb  and  empty-headed  fellow)  met  Miriam  (a  flirt 
and  a  light-minded  girl)  walking  in  the  garden.  He  greeted  her, 
looked  at  the  ground  and  sighed. 

'  Why  are  you  sighing,  Sigmund? '  Miriam  asked  in  a  compassionate 
tone. 

'Because  I  am  not  well,  because  .  .  .  because  I  am  in  love.* 
Miriam  did  not  reply,  looked  down  in  her  turn,  and  sighed. 

'And  why  are  you  sighing?'  asked  Simon. 

'Because  I  am  not  well  either,'  rephed  Miriam,  'because  .  .  . 
because  I  also  am  in  love.' 

'And  with  whom  are  you  in  love?'  asked  Sigmund. 

'And  with  whom  are  you  in  love?'  asked  Miriam. 

'Whom  should  I  love  .  .  .  ?' 

'And  whom  should  I  love  more  than  .  .  .  ?'  And  before  Miriam 
had  finished  speaking,  she  found  herself  in  the  arms  of  Simon,  and 
numberless  kisses  had  been  exchanged.  And  all  these  great  and 
wonderful  things  occurred  in  the  space  of  a  few  short  moments." 

The  result  of  all  this  pretension  to  romance  can  to  some  extent 
be  divined  from  the  title  of  the  sketch:  "The  Beginning  and 
the  End  of  a  Quarrel." 

It  may  be  remarked,  moreover,  that  some  of  his  other  sketches, 
notably  "Sidonia,  or  a  Broken  Heart," — perhaps  the  best  of  his 
stories,  rising  at  times  to  idyllic  beauty — deal,  not  with  the 

39 


EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

subject  of  Hasidism,  but  with  the  results  of  this  pseudo  Haskalah 
sort  of  training.  Yet,  the  greatest  number  of  Brandstaedter's 
sketches — among  which  are  to  be  classed  his  clever  but  entirely 
unpoetic  narrative  verses  and  the  story  "Mordecai  Kizavitz," 
the  latter  forming  the  basis  of  his  fame — are  of  a  distinctly 
Haskalah  temper.  Religious  conflict,  or,  at  least,  Hasidaic 
superstition,  forms  the  subject  matter  of  many  a  sketch;  the  ideal 
of  a  modern  rabbi,  cherished  so  much  among  the  Maskilim,  is 
represented  in  "Mordecai  Kizavitz";  and  there  is  to  be  found 
even  an  assimilatory  tendency  ("Dr.  Joseph  Alfasi"),  which  was 
characteristic,  in  a  greater  or  lesser  degree,  of  the  Maskilim, 
All  this  clearly  marks  Brandstaedter  as  a  writer  of  the  Haskalah 
age. 

There  were  many  other  writers  who  tried  their  hand  at  the 
short  story,  among  them  the  poets  Gordon  and  Gottlober.  The 
stories  of  the  former  are  distinguished  by  their  humor,  coarse  at 
times,  and  by  their  caustic  satire.  His  prose  writings  were, 
however,  eclipsed  by  his  poetic  productions,  wherein  we  find 
focused,  even  more  than  in  "  Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim,"  the 
tendencies  of  the  Haskalah. 

When  we  pass  in  review  the  achievements  of  the  Haskalah 
period  in  the  domain  of  the  novel  and  the  story,  we  find  them 
indeed  very  attenuated  and  anemic.  We  cannot  point  to  any 
work  that  rises  much  above  the  average,  whereas  many  of  the 
productions  sink  decidedly  below  the  level  of  the  ordinary.  The 
advance  that  the  Hebrew  story  had  made  since  the  days  of 
romanticism  was  almost  imperceptible:  here  and  there  a  char- 
acter— a  minor  character — was  more  individualized  and  set  ux 
relief;  now  and  then  we  may  note  a  gain  in  technique,  or  an 
attempt  at  modernizing  the  Hebrew  style,  in  order  to  adapt  it 
to  live  purposes.  On  the  other  hand,  we  find  a  retrogression  in  _^ 
the  Haskalah  story  in  one  important  particular:  in  appreciation 
of  nature.  Not  one  description  can  be  pointed  out  in  the  whole 
range  of  the  novel  or  story  of  that  age,  in  which  there  is  any 
indication  of  more  than  a  conventional  treatment  of  the  world  of 
out-of-doors.     And  this  relative  lack  of  progress,  this  submerging 

40 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

jof  the  personal  element  in  the  story,  can  not  be  laid  entirely  at 
the  door  of  the  individual  writers,  but  is  also  due  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age.  It  was  a  period  in  which  tendency  was  paramount, 
and  the  latter,  as  always  happens  in  such  cases,^blighted  talent 
and  sacrificed  the  individual  to  the  social  ideal.  Braudes,  the 
most  talented  of  the  Haskalah  novelists,  for  example,  had  more 
mettle  than  his  works,  with  their  lack  of  finish,  might  lead  one 
to  believe.  Had  he  devoted  himself  solely  to  the][]craft  of  nar- 
rating and  not  wasted  his  energies  on  preaching,  we' might  have 
had  in  "  Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim  "  a  novel  as  near  to  perfection 
as  any,  and  in  Braudes  himself  a  master  of  no  mean  degree.  As 
it  was,  his  Haskalah  tendency  killed  his  art.  And  this  was  true 
not  only  of  the  prose  writers,  but  also  of  the  poets  of  the  period. 


41 


CHAPTER  IV 

FICTION    DURING   THE   SECOND    STAGE    OF   THE    HASKALAH 

PERIOD    (Continued) 

2.  Poetry;  Literary  Criticism 

The  poetic  output  of  the  Haskalah  period  was  considerable, 
both  as  regards  quantity  and  quahty;  yet  even  here  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  the  withering  bhght  of  tendency,  was  strongly  felt. 
Just  as  there  was  no  individuality  in  the  novel,  so,  likewise, 
there  was  no  personality  in  the  poem.  In  every  branch  of 
poetry,  notably  lyricism,  we  perceive  a  marked  decline  from  the 
passionate,  throbbing,  and  beauty-loving  outbursts  of  a  Micah 
J.  Lebensohn.  There  is  no  lack  of  verve  and  scathing  satire, 
but  there  is  an  absence  of  real  convincing  power,  of  the  qualities 
of  durability,  of  a  deeper  appreciation  of  life  and  its  ideals,  and 
of  a  positive  valuation  of  things.  In  the  militant  temper  of  the 
time,  the  personal  element  is  subordinated  to  the  clash  and 
conflict  of  the  social  ideals.  Hence  the  relative  predominance, 
at  that  period,  of  the  drama  and  the  narrative  poem,  with  their 
lack  of  emotion  and  direct  presentation  of  life  outside  of  the 
individual. 

The  allegorical  drama  "Emeth  We-Emunah"  (Truth  and 
Faith,  1867),  by  Abraham  D.  B.  Lebensohn  (1789-1877),  may 
be  regarded  as  the  first  poetic  endeavor  of  the  kind  mentioned 
above.  A.  Lebensohn,  the  father  of  the  poet  Micah  J.  Leben- 
sohn, belonged,  by  the  nature  of  his  lyrics,  to  the  first,  the  "hu- 
manistic," stage  of  the  Haskalah  period,  being  considered  its 
greatest  poet.  Even  in  "Enieth  We-Emunah"  there  is  a  distinct 
humanistic  touch  in  the  desire  to  wed  Faith  to  Wisdom;  for  the 
Maskilim  of  the  second  stage  of  the  period  were  striving  for 
more  than  this, — they  desired  to  adapt  Faith  to  Life.  Yet 
the  future  conflict  was  already  foreshadowed  in  "Emeth  We- 
Emunah,"  at  least  in  the  portrayal  of  Rabbi  Zib'on,  meaning 
allegorically  "the  painted  one,"  the  Tartuffe  of  Hebrew  literature. 

42 


FICTION   DURING  SECOND   STAGE 

"Emeth  We-Emunah"  was  influenced  in  its  setting  by  the 
similarly  allegorical  drama  "  La-Yesharim  Tehillah"  of  the  cele- 
brated M.  H.  Luzzatto,  with  this  main  difference:  whereas  the 
dramatis  personae  of  the  latter  represent  impersonated  virtues 
and  vices  as  such,  those  of  "  Emeth  We-Emunah  "  embody  the 
attributes  of  Wisdom  and  Folly:  Wisdom,  Reason,  Truth.  The 
last  mentioned  is  to  be  married  to  Belief  or  Credulity,  the 
daughter  of  Crowd  and  Folly — or,  rather.  Ignorance;  but  by  the 
intervention  of  Zib'on  the  union  is  foiled.  Truth  is  imprisoned 
and  Falsehood,  dressed  in  Truth's  attire,  takes  his  place  as  the 
fiance  of  Faith.  Finally,  however,  Reason  comes  on  the  scene, 
releases  Truth,  and  reinstates  him  in  his  oflBce  as  husband  of 
Faith.  Such  was  the  adoration  of  reason  among  the  Maskilim 
and  such  their  optimism!  ^ 

"  Emeth  We-Emunah  "  is  in  some  respects  inferior,  while  in 
others  it  is  superior  to  "La-Yesharim  Tehillah,"  We  miss  in  it 
the  lyric  beauty  and  the  really  romantic  atmosphere  of  the  latter, 
as  well  as  its  simplicity  and  warmth  of  style.  Even  the  echo  in 
the  woods, — a  dramatic  subterfuge — which  oracularly  foretells 
future  events,  imitated  from  "  La-Yesharim  Tehillah,"  sounds 
more  artificial  in  Lebensohn's  drama.  Its  style,  moreover,  is 
more  pompous,  though  generally  rather  smooth,  while,  at  times, 
it  is  marred  by  excessive  punning.  "  Emeth  We-Emunah  "  has, 
however,  more  dramatic  effect  and  less  of  the  deus  ex  machina 
than  "La-Yesharim  Tehillah." 

"Tifereth  Li-Bene  Binah"  is  another  allegorical  drama,  pub- 
lished in  the  same  year  as  "  Emeth  We-Emunah  "  and  also  in- 
fluenced by  "La-Yesharim Tehillah."  The  author,  A.  B.  Gottlober 
(1811-1899),  frankly  acknowledges  the  influence.  Like  "La- 
Yesharim  Tehillah,"  it  is  dedicated  to  the  pupil  of  the  author  on  his 
wedding  day,  and  like  the  latter,  it  has  the  echo  in  the  woods. 
The  meter,  however,  is  that  of  another  drama  of  Luzzatto,  "  Mig- 
dal  Oz."  The  dramatis  personae  are:  Honor,  as  king.  Glory,  his 
daughter,  born  to  him  by  his  wife  Modesty,  etc.  The  quality  of 
this  drama,  which  is  not  above  criticism,  bears  the  same  relation 
to  "La-Yesharim  Tehillah"  as  does  "Emeth  We-Emunah." 

43 


IS,  I 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Gottlober's  poetic  and  literary  activity  did  not  confine  itself, 

however,  to  this  lyrical  drama;  his  productions  bear  the  stamp 

of  three  distinct  periods  in  Hebrew  literature:    the  first  and 

second  stages  of  the  Haskalah,  and  the  national  revival.     Gott- 

lober  was  one  of  the  celebrated  poets  of  his  day  and  was,  in  a 

measure,  regarded  with  veneration  as  the  Hebrew  Boileau.     To 

\  us  he  appears  a  mediocre  versifier,  resembling  Southey  in  beating 

j  about  for  a  subject  and  in  preferring  blank  verse  as  a  means  of 

I  poetic  conveyance. 

Gottlober  made  his  debut  with  a  very  tolerable  poem:  "Le- 
Toledoth  Ha-Shir  WeHa-Melizah,"  tracing  the  history  of  poetry 
down  to  modern  times  and  singing  its  praises  in  enthusiastic 
fashion.  He  soon  fell,  however,  into  the  banalities  of  the  time 
(the  first  stage  of  Haskalah).  He  indited  poems  of  occasion, 
wrote  an  elegy  on  the  death  of  Nicholas  I — an  event  that  had 
caused  joy  throughout  the  Jewish  Pale  in  Russia, — and  cringingly 
hailed  all  advances  as  regards  education  made  by  the  government 
towards  the  Jews,  calling  upon  the  latter  to  awaken  and  listen 
to  the  voice  of  wisdom — alias  Haskalah. 

The  disposition  of  Gottlober  was  far  from  romantic;  and  so 
romanticism  passed  by  without  touching  him.  Soon  we  find 
him  at  the  second  stage  of  the  Haskalah,  in  the  firing  line  of  the 
conflict.  The  greatest  part  of  his  literary  activity,  in  poetry  as 
well  as  in  prose,  centers  in  this  period;  but  a  marked  insincerity 
pervades  all  he  produced  at  this  time.  His  national  poems 
written  after  1880,  under  the  influence  of  the  national  revival, 
strike,  on  the  other  hand,  a  more  sincere  and  truly  poetic  note. 
In  one  of  these  poems,  "Asire  Ha-Tikwah,"  he  confesses,  like 
so  many  other  Maskilim,  his  disappointment  of  the  aspirations  of 
the  preceding  age;  and  now,  an  old  man  of  seventy,  he  sees  the 
only  hope  of  his  people  in  Zion.  The  best  poems  of  this  period 
are  "The  Bird  in  the  Cage,"  "The  Bird  with  the  Clipped  Wings," 
and  "A  Voice  Is  Singing  in  the  Window," — all  pertaining  to  the 
neo-national  aspirations. 

Gottlober  also  wrote  a  few  stories  of  no  great  value  and  a  couple 
of  quasi-scientific  works:    "Investigations  into  the  Origin  of 

44 


FICTION   DURING  SECOND   STAGE 

the  Karaites"  (1864)  and  "Kabbalah  and  Hasidism"  (1869),— 
the  former  in  the  rationaHstic  spirit,  and  of  hardly  any  scientific 
value;  the  latter  a  polemic  and  written,  of  course,  from  the 
Haskalah  point  of  view.  Besides  all  this,  he  edited  the  monthly 
"  Ha-Boker  Or,"  the  nature  of  which  has  already  been  described. 

Unlike  Gottlober,  Jehudah  Loeb  Lewin  (b.  1845),  known  by 
his  nom-de-plume  Yehallel,  brought  with  him  a  considerable 
amount  of  earnestness,  fervor,  and  passion;  and  had  he  had  a 
corresponding  fluency  of  style  and  ease  of  rhythm,  he  might  have 
stood  in  the  first  rank  of  the  Hebrew  poets  of  the  time.  Facility 
of  execution  was,  however,  by  no  means  the  forte  of  Lewin.  His 
verse,  is  generally  halting  and  laborious.  In  the  course  of 
j'^ears,  it  is  true,  he  acquired  more  skill  in  the  manipulation  of  the 
rhythm,  so  that  in  some  poems,  such  as  "Helpless  Wrath"  and 
"The  Voice  of  the  Lord,"  for  example,  the  rhythm  is  almost  in 
harmony  with  the  solemn  subject  matter,  and  in  "  Of  the  Songs 
of  Zion,"  Lewin  nearly  attains  melody.  But  he  hardly  ever  gets 
beyond  monotony  of  meter,  generally  employing  the  tame, 
pedestrian  hendecasyllabic  line,  and  the  conventional  sextet 
stanza  of  the  period. 

Monotony  is  the  bane  not  only  of  Lewin's  meter,  but  of  the 
substance  of  his  poems  as  well.  Only  a  few  inspired  strains  are 
distinguishable  in  his  verse,  whether  of  the  Haskalah  or  of  the 
revival  period;  and  to  these  few  notes  he  tunes  his  harp  again  and 
again.  "Helpless  Wrath,"  in  which  the  poet  utters  a  cry  of 
despair  against  the  present  order  of  society,  and  "The  Voice  of 
the  Lord,"  where  he  expresses  his  conviction  that  Haskalah  is 
the  panacea  of  all  human  evils,  may  be  cited  as  his  representative 
Haskalah  lyrics;  for  all  the  rest  of  Lewin's  lyrical  effusions  of  that 
period  are  written  in  the  one  or  the  other  vein.  And  the  same 
is  the  case  with  his  revival  lyrics.  The  cry  of  protest  against 
Jewish  oppression  and  the  consolation  in  Zion  are  the  key  notes 
of  almost  all  he  produced  during  that  time.  His  narratives, 
on  the  other  hand,  though  lacking  imagination,  contribute  some 
elements  to  Hebrew  literature  that  were  in  a  great  measure 
absent  in  other  poems  of  the  kind  then  written.     In  "Kishron 

45 


/ 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Ha-Maase,"  for  example, — ^the  most  socialistic^  of  his  writings, — 
the  story  of  a  person  rising  from  poverty  to  opulence  and  power 
by  the  sheer  force  of  will,  with  the  intention  of  improving  human- 
ity, but,  by  the  irony  of  fate,  becoming  an  oppressor  instead  of  a 
reformer — we  find  emotion  and  psychologic  insight;  whereas  the 
small  narrative  poem  "Jewish  Happiness"  shows  the  humorously 
pathetic. 

Mention  must  also  be  made  in  this  connection  of  a  long  narra- 
tive poem,  "Ivehal  Refaim"  (1867),  written  by  the  arch  Haskalah 
publicist,  Lilienblum.  He  was  by  no  means  a  poet  by  the  grace 
of  God,  although  we  have  a  number  of  poems  from  his  pen. 
"Kehal  Refaim"  is,  however,  a  piece  of  very  clever  workmanship. 
It  consists  of  a  series  of  scenes  in  the  hereafter,  where  people, 
who  were  holding  various  public  offices  during  their  lifetime,  come 
to  judgment  before  the  Lord.  The  characteristic  foibles  of  these 
notables  of  Jewish  society  are  delineated  in  this  poem  with  a 
spirit  and  an  acuteness  representative  of  the  best  of  the  Haskalah 
period. 

The  central  figure  of  Haskalah  poetry,  however,  was  Judah^ 
Loeb  Gordon  (1831-1892).  This  poet  began  his  literary  career 
as  a  romantic,  reverting  to  the  ancient  or  mediaeval  world  for 
his  material.  A  number  of  poems  were  written  by  him  in  this 
romantic  mood,  the  best  known  of  which  is  "  The  Love  of  David 
and  Michal,"  a  Biblical  epic  in  twelve  cantos.  Here  we  see  the 
unmistakable  influence  of  Micah  J.  Lebensohn;  the  meter  is 
similar  to  that  of  the  narratives  of  the  latter — the  four  stress 
quatrain  with  alternate  rime —  and  the  style  has  a  romantic 
flavor.  Gordon,  however,  never  attained  to  the  mellowness  of 
style,  the  deep  sentiment,  and  the  romantic  sereneness  found 
in  Lebensohn.  In  "Ahavath  David  U-Michal"  we  already  see 
the  rhetorician  and  the  faultless  metrician  to  come.  Otherwise, 
there  is  hardly  any  predominant  poetic  feature  in  this  twelve 
canto  poem.  There  is  no  appreciation  of  nature,  of  primeval 
scenery,  such  as  one  would  expect  from  a  poem  dealing  with 

1  It  may  be  remarked  that  Lewin  was  one  of  a  group  of  early  Jewish  socialists, 
who  began  their  propaganda  in  Hebrew. 

46 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

primitive  life.     Neither  is  love  the  motive  power,  as  one  would 
anticipate  of  a  romantic  narrative.     Nor  are  the  deeds  of  David 
depicted  with  truly  poetic  grandeur.     With  less  heaviness  of 
style  and  monotony  of  narration  than  "Shire  Tifereth,"  which 
Gordon  took  as  a  model,  "Love  of  David  and  Michal"  resembles 
the  former  in  that  it  is  not  much  more  than  a  paraphrase  of  the 
Biblical  story  thrown  into  modern  verse.     And  if  a  romantic 
element  is  sought  for  in  this  poem,  it  can  be  found,  at  most,  in 
the  last  stanza,  where  the  harp  of  David,  making  music,  according! 
to  tradition,  of  its  own  accord,  whenever  the  breath  of  the  north! 
wind  touched  it,  became  silent  simultaneously  with  the  death  of  I 
Michal.  ' 

The  other  epic  poem  of  Gordon,  "The  Wars  of  David  with 
the  Philistines,"  can  lay  more  claim  to  epic  qualities,  in  style 
and  in  rhythm  as  well  as  in  treatment.  It  was  to  have  been  a 
long  poem,  modelled,  according  to  the  assertion  of  the  poet,  after 
the  "Iliad,"  Tasso's  "Jerusalem  Delivered,"  etc.,  not  to  say  a 
word  about  the  "Shire  Tifereth."  Had  he  finished  it,  we  might 
have  had  a  work  of  real  poetic  significance;  for  Gordon  did  have 
a  power  of  narration,  and  the  poem  possesses  some  of  those  quali- 
ties which  contribute  to  the  making  of  a  successful  epic.  Un- 
fortunately, it  remained  a  torso. 

To  this  romantic  period,  likewise,  belong  a  few  more  of  Gor- 
don's longer  poems:  "Asnath,  Daughter  of  Potifera,"  presenting 
some  fine  lyric  touches;  "David  and  Barzilai,"  where  the  sim- 
plicity of  country  life  is  contrasted  with  the  pomp  and  luxury  of 
court  and  city  Hfe;  "In  the  Depth  of  the  Ocean,"  a  pathetic 
narrative  based  on  the  story  of  the  banishment  of  the  Jews  from 
Spain;  and  a  small  lyrical  drama  of  great  beauty,  "Alas 
Brother!",  written  on  the  occasion  of  M.  J.  Lebensohn's  death. 
The  last  mentioned  is  imbued  with  genuine  sentiment  and  is  a 
noble  expression  of  grief  at  the  death  of  the  young  poet,  the 
friend  and  inspirer  of  Gordon. 

These  poems,  particularly  "  David  and  Michal," — "  The  Wars 
of  David"  being  a  posthumous  publication — immediately  gained 
for  the  poet  the  foremost  place  in  Hebrew  poetry;  but  with  these 

47 


EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

his  romantic  period  closes.  Henceforth,  he  appears  as  the 
champion  of  Haskalah,  his  fame  as  such  ecHpsing  that  which  he 
had  attained  as  a  romantic  poet.  In  fact,  neither  in  his  make-up 
nor  by  his  education,  neither  in  his  sympathies  nor  by  his  literary 
influences,  could  he  have  become  a  romanticist  yar  excellence. 
In  his  make-up,  Gordon  had  infinitely  more  of  Voltaire  and  of  Popu5 
than  of  Shelley;  he  was  capable  of  producing  a  "Dunciad"  rather 
than  a  "Queen  Mab."  As  for  his  education,  he  was  brought  up, 
as  were  most  of  the  Lithuanian  Jews  of  the  time,  upon  the  dry 
Talmudic  studies,  which  were  not  even  relieved  by  the  perusal 
of  the  fantastic  Kabbalistic  "  Zohar,"  the  spiritual  food  of  the 
Hasidim,  or  by  a  deeper  understanding  of  the  poetic  and  literary 
significance  of  the  Bible.  Finally,  the  literary  influences  on 
Gordon  were  mainly  those  of  the  Russian  nihilistic  school,  wdth 
Pisarev  and  Tschernishefsky  at  the  head,  people  who  decried 
the  beautiful  and  the  imaginative  and  deified  the  utilitarian. 
All  this  combined  to  make  of  Gordon,  not  the  poet  of  hope,  the 
prophetic  comforter  of  his  people,  the  passionate  preacher  for  a 
higher,  nobler,  more  spiritual  life,  but  the  utilitarian,  ration- 
alistic, Haskalah  poet,  the  passionate  scoffer,  the  scathing 
satirist,  the  effective  hater. 

The  second  period  of  Gordon's  poetic  activity  extends,  roughly 
speaking,  over  the  space  of  fifteen  years,  from  1865  to  about  1880, 
and  it  embraces  most  of  his  narratives,  some  minor  poems,  and 
some  fables.  Of  the  narratives,  the  best  known, — as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  most  popular  of  all  Gordon's  poems — are:  "The 
Point  of  a  Yod"  and  "The  Two  Josephs  Ben  Simon."  The 
theme  of  the  former  was  not  uncommon  among  the  Hebrew 
writers  of  the  time.  Bath-shua,  a  beautiful  and  wealthy  maiden, 
who  has  enjoyed  the  privileges  of  a  secular  education,  is  married, 
against  her  will,  to  a  Talmudic  student,  who  knows  nothing 
either  of  the  world  or  of  the  responsibilities  that  he  is  now  taking 
upon  himself.  Consequently,  when  his  father-in-law  and  sup- 
porter becomes  impoverished,  he,  the  husband  of  Bath-Shua  and 
the  father  of  two  children,  is  forced  to  repair  to  sunnier  climes  in 
order  to  woo  fortune  there  for  himself. 

48 


FICTION   DURING  SECOND   STAGE 

The  "land  beyond  the  sea"  is  a  lotus  producing  country,  and 
people  who  reach  its  shores  sometimes  forget  those  whom  they 
have  left  behind.  The  husband  of  Bath-Shua,  too,  coming 
there,  gradually  forgot  his  nearest  of  kin  at  home.  Meanwhile, 
Bath-Shua  met  with  a  modern  man,  a  Maskil,  and,  naturally, 
fell  in  love  with  him.  The  two  lovers  decided  to  find  out  her 
husband  and  get  a  divorce  from  him.  And  they  succeeded. 
But,  alas!  In  the  divorce  bill  the  name  of  Hillel,  the  husband, 
appeared  without  the  letter  Yod,  whereas  according  to  some 
religious  authorities  it  is  to  be  written  with  a  Yod.  The  Rabbi, 
therefore,  declared  the  divorce  bill  invalid,  and  the  two  lovers 
were  thus  separated  forever. 

The  motive  of  this  poem  would  at  first  sight  seem  to  be  really 
tragic.  The  fact  that  the  point  of  a  Yod  could  effect  a  separa- 
tion between  two  lovers  and  keep  the  woman  a  grass  widow  all 
her  lifetime,  would  strongly  appeal  to  the  sentiment  of  pity  or 
even  of  horror.  In  reality,  however,  this  motive  is  slight  and 
by  no  means  convincing.  As  the  Yod  is  not  essential,  according 
to  most  religious  authorities,  in  the  name  of  Hillel,  Fabi,  the 
lover  of  Bath-Shua,  could  have  appealed,  with  success,  to  other 
Rabbis,  not  so  rigid  as  the  one  of  their  own  town.  But  here 
another  characteristic  of  the  Haskalah  writers  comes  to  the  fore. 
Their  heroes  are  destitute  of  any  energy  of  their  own.  If  they 
lose  the  game,  it  is  due  to  the  machinations  of  the  villain,  and  if 
they  win,  it  is  not  as  the  result  of  their  own  activity,  but  is  a  sort 
of  fatality,  of  predetermination. 

Another  characteristic  feature  of  the  "Point  of  a  Yod," 
marking  Gordon  as  the  true  representative  of  Haskalah,  is  the 
absence  of  deep  sentiment,  and  a  nobler  understanding  and 
appreciation  of  love,  or  of  real  beauty.  "Pie  who  has  not  seen 
the  daughter  of  Hefer,  Bath-Shua,  has  never  seen  a  beautiful 
woman," — the  poet  asserts.  But,  when  he  sets  about  de- 
scribing her,  he  does  not  even  succeed  in  enabling  us  to  visualize 
the  woman,  despite  the  five  long  stanzas  which  he  wastes  in  the 
effort.  When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  poet  wishes  to  give  a 
ludicrous  picture  of  Bath-Shua's  husband,  he  does  so  successfully 
5  49 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

in  two  lines:  "He  has  calf's  eyes,  forelocks  like  tails,  and  a  face 
like  that  of  the  fig  of  Rabbi  Zadok,"  ^ — a  conventional  and  by 
no  means  individualistic  description,  but  yet,  sufficient  to  make 
clear  to  us  the  appearance  of  the  Talmudic  student.  Again,  after 
the  life-disappointment  of  Bath-Shua,  she  sums  up  her  complaint, 
in  the  following  words,  with  which  the  poem  ends:  "Upon  me, 
too,  fortune  once  smiled;  my  children  and  I  might  have  lived 
happily,  leading  a  life  of  pleasure  like  all  other  women, — but  the 
point  of  a  Yod  was  my  bane," — an  ending  both  unpoetic  and 
characteristically  utilitarian. 

Broader  and  nobler  in  conception  is  Gordon's  other  long  narra- 
tive poem:  "The  Two  Josephs  Ben  Simon."  It  is  the  embodi- 
ment of  all  the  hopes  and  aspirations  of  the  Maskilim.  The  story 
is  that  of  a  young  man  whose  ambition  is  to  become  an  en- 
lightened Rabbi,  in  order  that  he  may  soften  the  rigidity  of  the 
Jewish  Law.  For  this  purpose  he  goes  to  Padua,  Italy,  where 
he  divides  his  time  between  the  study  of  the  Jewish  Law  and 
that  of  medicine,  so  that  he  may  later  be  able  to  bring  religion 
into  harmony  with  life  and  science.  With  this  ambition,  Joseph 
Ben  Simon  returned  to  Russia,  after  he  had  completed  his 
course  of  studies  abroad.  But,  alas!  his  dream  was  not  to  be 
realized.  As  soon  as  he  had  stepped  on  Russian  soil  again,  he 
was  arrested  and  sent  to  Siberia — for  the  crime  of  another. 
During  his  long  absence  from  home,  a  passport  in  his  name  had 
been  issued  to  another  person — a  thing  quite  common  in  those 
days  of  official  arbitrariness — who  had  committed  a  murder  and 
escaped,  leaving  the  passport  behind  at  the  scene  of  the  crime. 
And  the  fact  that  the  passport  bore  his  name,  was  sufficient  for 
the  real  Joseph  Ben  Simon  to  be  sentenced  to  life  imprisonment. 

In  this  narrative,  then,  there  is  a  real  tragic  element :  the  hero, 

rising  above  his  surroundings  and  representing  a  social  ideal, 

finally  succumbs  to  the  will  or  arbitrariness  of  society.     Gordon, 

however,  was  the  child  of  his  age,  a  period  in  which  art  was  sub- 

1  Rabbi  Zadok  foresaw,  according  to  tradition,  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem 
by  the  Romans,  and  in  order  to  avert  the  calamity,  he  fasted  forty  years  in 
succession,  sucking  out  the  juice  of  a  fig  every  evening,  in  this  manner  sus- 
taining his  life. 

50 


FICTION   DURING  SECOND   STAGE 

servient  to  tendency;  therefore,  a  poem  that  might  have  been 
shaped  into  a  real  tragedy,  ultimately  resulted  in  a  mere  farce. 
The  hero  shows  hardly  any  individuality;  he  represents  a  type 
or,  to  be  more  explicit,  an  abstract  idea.  Like  the  hero  in  "The 
Point  of  a  Yod,"  moreover,  he  yields  to  fate  without  even  an 
attempt  at  resistance. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  "  Two  Josephs  Ben  Simon " 
excels  "The  Point  of  a  Yod"  in  conception  as  well  as  in  breadth 
of  view,  the  greater  popularity  fell  to  the  share  of  the  latter. 
Why  this  preference?  It  is  probably  to  be  sought  for  in  the 
character  of  the  man  of  the  period  regardless  of  the  tendencies  of 
the  generation.  In  the  first  place,  "The  Point"  has  the  semb- 
lance of  a  love  story.  Then,  again,  the  point  of  the  story:  the 
fact  that  a  Yod,  the  smallest  letter  of  the  Hebrew  alphabet, 
could  blight  the  life  of  a  beautiful  young  woman,  strongly 
appealed  to  sentiment.  Finally,  the  success  of  this  poem  must 
be  attributed  also  to  the  artistic  finish,  as  far  as  style  and  meter 
is  concerned,  which  marks  it  in  distinction  from  "The  Two 
Josephs." 

The  materialistic-utilitarian  influence  of  Russian  literature  on 
Gordon  may  be  seen  still  more  clearly  in  two  other  longer  poems : 
"Zedekiah  in  the  Guard  House"  and  "In  the  Jaws  of  the  Lion." 
The  former  is  a  very  pathetic  poem.  It  is  the  complaint  of 
Zedekiah,  the  last  king  of  Judah,  whose  children  were  slaughtered 
before  his  eyes  by  Nebuchadrezzar,  and  himself  blinded  and 
thrown  into  prison.  This  poem  is  marked  not  only  by  a  freely 
expressed  atheism,  but  by  a  total  misapprehension  of  the  moral 
greatness  of  the  noblest  and  gentlest  of  the  prophets,  Jeremiah. 
"What  ill  have  I  done?  How  have  I  transgressed?"  moans 
Zedekiah.  "Because  I  did  not  yield  to  Jeremiah?  A  cowardly 
fellow!  A  man  of  cringing  disposition  who  gave  us  a  shameful, 
slavish  advice :  '  Surrender ! '  .  .  .  And  what  is  the  desire  of  this 
priest  of  Anathoth?  That  we  carry  no  burden  on  the  Sabbath! 
.  .  .  He  has,  moreover,  created  a  new  covenant  for  Judah:  all 
the  people,  both  great  and  small,  must  study  the  Law  .  .  .  . 
All  shall  be  scribes  and  prophets  ....     Each  will  say :  '  I  shall 

51 


J 


II 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

neither  plough  nor  thresh,  for  I  am  one  of  the  kingdom  of  priests 
and  of  the  holy  people'  ....  And  the  land  will  be  filled  with 
priests  and  prophets,  with  visionaries  and  day-dreamers,  chasing 
the  east  wind  and  gazing  into  the  clouds," — a  strain  worthy  of 
Voltaire.  And  a  similar  spirit  imbues  "In  the  Jaws  of  the 
Lion,"  a  narrative  of  the  time  of  the  Jewish  war  with  the  Romans. 

Gordon  also  wrote  a  considerable  number  of  lyric  poems  and 
rimed  fables.  The  latter  are  mostly  translations  or  adaptations 
from  the  known  fabulists:  Aesop,  Lafontaine,  Krilov,  etc.,  while 
many  are  his  own.  His  translations  are  rather  skillful  and  have 
a  flavor  of  originality  about  them.  In  general,  Gordon  was 
successful  in  his  translations,  which  include  some  of  Byron's 
"Hebrew  melodies,"  some  of  Schiller's  poems,  etc.  His  original 
fables,  like  most  of  his  other  poems,  bear  the  impress  of  the 
Haskalah.  They  are  taken  from  the  life  of  the  bipeds  rather 
than  from  that  of  the  quadrupeds— as  was  natural  for  a  person 
whose  education  practically  excluded  nature— and  are  pointed 
with  pungent  satire. 

Gordon's  nature  and  love  lyrics  are  devoid  of  real  sentiment 
and  a  true  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  but  are  rhetorical  and 
smack  of  pliilosophy.  His  other  lyrics  and  his  reflective  verse: 
^The  Graveyard" — which  bears  a  similarity  to  Gray's  "Elegy," 
—"The  Blessing  of  the  Righteous,"  "With  Our  Young  and 
Our  Old  We  Shall  Go,"  "My  Sister  Ruhamah,"— the  last  two  of 
which  were  set  to  music— all  these  show  a  fund  of  sentiment  and 
sincerity  seldom  attained  by  Gordon  in  his  love  and  nature  poems. 

Among  Gordon's  lyrics  there  has  been  included  a  longer  poem, 
"^^  tb.e  Mfl2!L-  ^^  i-^lSJi^'"  which  deserves  special  attention. 
This  poem  has  hitherto  been  neglected  by  critics  and  over- 
shadowed in  popular  estimation  by  his  longer  narratives.  But 
unjustly  so.  For  it  is  a  masterpiece,  probably  the  most  inspired 
of  Gordon's  productions,  representing  him  at  his  best,  in  all 
poetic  qualities.  The  humor  is  superb,  the  satire  deep  and 
thoroughgoing,  and  its  vigor  and  pathos  are  not  frequently  met 
with  in  his  works.  All  this,  coupled  with  a  perfection  of  meter 
and  phraseology,  stamps  the  poem  as  a  true  work  of  art. 

52 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

The  theme  of  "In  the  Moon"  is  original  and  highly  imagina- 
tive. The  moon  serves,  according  to  the  conception  of  Jewish 
myth,  as  recorder  of  the  actions  of  man  on  our  sinful  globe, 
making  use  of  her  rays  as  absorbents  and  of  her  rocks  and  cliffs 
as  tablets  upon  which  to  inscribe  the  records.  Now,  it  happened 
that  our  poet  was  accidentally  translated  to  that  star.  There 
he  was  astonished  to  find  an  uninhabited  world,  where  "is  no 
house,  no  field,  no  tree  or  plant,  no  railroad  or  tax  on  wine, — ^no 
officer  to  ask  who  I  am  and  whether  I  have  a  passport."  And 
in  his  wonderment,  the  poet  addresses  himself  to  the  Lord: 
"Why  didst  thou  create  a  world  in  vain? — Why  didst  thou 
hasten  to  rest  on  the  seventh  day?  Hadst  thou  labored  one  or 
two  days  more,  thou  wouldst  have  formed  here,  too,  men  like 
unto  the  fishes  of  the  sea!"  Whereas  on  our  globe,  "people  shed 
blood  for  every  clod  of  earth."  And  while  the  poet  is  thus 
haranguing,  he  meets  an  angel,  the  secretary  of  heaven,  who 
explains  to  him  the  function  of  the  moon,  exciting  in  this  manner 
the  curiosity  of  the  poet,  who  requests  the  angel  to  let  him  see 
those  interesting  records.  His  request  was,  however,  refused, 
on  the  plea  that  his  life  would  be  forever  embittered  at  the  sight. 
Meanwhile  the  dawn  rises,  and  our  poet  is  compelled  to  take  hold 
of  a  ray  and  descend  to  earth. 

From  that  time  on  the  poet  can  find  no  rest.  His  desire  to 
see  the  records  of  the  moon  develops  into  a  passion.  He  devises 
different  means  of  ascension  but  all  in  vain.  He  makes  a 
balloon,  which  carries  him  only  as  high  as  the  gas  will  allow. 
The  Zaddik  (wonder  worker),  to  whom  he  applies,  becomes 
confused  at  the  sight  of  the  "pidion"  (the  fee),  and  mixes  up  the 
amulet  of  the  poet  with  that  of  a  barren  woman,  with  the  result 
that  the  poet  begets  children  while  the  woman  ascends  to  heaven. 
He  tries  other  devices,  but  they  are  all  frustrated  by  various 
odd  accidents.  At  last,  he  wins  the  first  premium  in  the  lottery. 
Having  thus  become  suddenly  enriched,  he  is  carried  to  heaven 
"on  the  saddle  of  flattery."  This  time  he  is  received  with  great 
respect  by  the  heavenly  secretary;  for  "even  on  high  they 
respect  the  rich,  and  a  thousand  shekels  are  more  valued  than  a 

53 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

myriad  of  poems."     And  now  he  attains  the  desire  of  his  heart, 
and  is  shown  the  records  of  the  moon. 

The  sight  is  far  from  comforting.  The  whole  misery  of  the 
Jewish  people,  social,  economic,  and  intellectual,  is  here  por- 
trayed in  plastic  images,  vivid  in  execution  and  vibrating  with 
emotion. 

It  is  important  to  observe,  that,  though  still  imbued  with  the 
Haskalah  spirit,  this  masterpiece,  written  at  the  zenith  of 
Gordon's  poetic  vigor,  strikes  a  note  not  found  in  his  earlier 
poems.  Here,  the  poet  is  no  longer  solely  the  Haskalah  repre- 
sentative, but  is  drifting  towards  the  revival  ideals  that  were 
then  beginning  to  exert  their  influence  upon  the  Jews.  For,  if 
he  does  not  grasp  at  the  new  ideals  as  the  saving  grace  of  Israel, 
he  is,  at  least,  inclined  to  lend  an  ear  to  them,  at  the  same  time 
expressing  his  disappointment  in  the  old  Haskalah  ideals.  The 
poem  ends  with  the  following  note  of  despair:  "Behold,  here  is 
another  record  full  of  bubbles  continually  bursting  like  foam  on 
the  water.  'What  are  these?'  'These  are  the  hopes  to  which 
thou  didst  raise  thine  eyes  in  the  days  of  thy  youth.'  'Alas!' 
I  cried,  and  covered  my  face;  of  all  my  dreams  not  one  has 
survived;  'a  purified  society,'  'the  education  of  my  rabbis,' 
'the  settlement  of  the  land  (Zion),'  'the  rejuvenation  of  my 
people.' — And  woe-stricken  and  desolate,  I  fell  from  heaven 
down  to  earth." 

If  a  play  upon  words  be  permissible,  one  might  say  that  the 
last  words  of  this  noble  poem  of  Gordon's  were  symbolic  of  his 
further  poetic  activity.  For,  "In  the  Moon"  was  his  last  and 
greatest  attempt  to  hold  his  own  with  the  Hebrew  muses.  Soon, 
however,  he  descended  therefrom,  never  again  to  rise  to  its 
heights.  This  poem  was  written  during  the  years  1878-1882, 
at  the  end  of  the  Haskalah  and  the  beginning  of  the  national 
revival  period.  After  that  he  wrote  a  few  vigorous  poems  and^ 
some  fine  satiric  verse;  these  were,  however,  late  gleanings. 
And  though  he  survived  that  destructive  period  whose  mouth- 
piece he  was,  he  never  got  beyond  the  negative  attitude  to 
Judaism. 

54 


FICTION  DURING  SECOND  STAGE 

Gordon's  poetic  productions  have  undergone  a  fate  similar  to 
that  of  Pope's  poems,  with  which  they  have  much  in  common. 
The  laurels  that  he  had  won  during  his  lifetime  have  long  ago 
dried  up;  his  influence  is  dead,  and  some  critics  even  go  to  the 
length  of  denying  him  the  poetic  gift  altogether,  arguing  from 
the  absence  in  his  poems  of  certain  qualities,  such  as  love  of  the 
beautiful,  which  go  into  the  make  up  of  poetry.  But,  both  the 
adoration  of  the  poet  during  his  lifetime  and  his  condemnation 
by  some  later  critics  have  been  unjust.  The  truth  of  the  matter 
is,  that,  as  it  was  poor  criticism  on  the  part  of  his  contemporaries 
to  place  him  in  the  foremost  rank  of  really  inspired  poets,  so  it 
is  only  conventional  criticism,  cut  out  according  to  hard  and  fast 
rules,  that  can  deny  him  poetic  endowment.  That  Gordon  was 
not  a  poet  of  the  first  rank,  is  certainly  true;  but  that  he  could 
at  times  rise  to  a  great  height  of  poetic  expression,  can  be  wit- 
nessed by  his  masterpiece  "In  the  Moon;"  can  be  testified  to  by 
some  of  his  other  poems,  as  well  as  by  some  passages  even  in  his 
verbose  and  prosy  longer  narratives.  As  for  the  argument 
pointing  to  the  lack  of  appreciation  of  real  beauty  and  of  nature, 
though  this  fact  may  detract  so  much  from  his  poetic  significance, 
yet,  to  a  great  extent,  it  may  be  attributed  to  the  general  short- 
comings of  the  period.  The  generation  of  the  Haskalah  was 
simply  devoid  of  the  sense  of  beaut}'  and  of  the  feeling  for  nature^ 
just  as  was  the  generation  of  Pope  in  England  and  that  of  Vol- 
taire in  France.  And  for  similar  reasons.  In  one  phase,  however, 
Gordon  excels  all  other  Hebrew  poets,  and  that  is,  in  his  ener- 
getic satiric  vem. 

Literary  Criticism 

Literary  criticism  during  the  Haskalah  period  stood  on  a  much 
lower  plane  than  the  novel  and  the  poem.  One  need  not  wonder 
at  this.  Criticism  is,  in  a  measure,  the  harvest  of  literature,  its 
soundness  and  truth  depending  upon  the  previous  development  of 
the  latter;  and  modern  Hebrew  literature  had  not  yet  grown  to  an 
extent  that  could  give  scope  to  the  operation  of  criticism.  Criti- 
cism could,  therefore,  not  attain  at  that  time  to  any  great  height  of 
truth  or  great  depth  of  understanding.     Yet,  even  at  the  begin- 

55 


^ 


/ 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

ning  of  the  period  we  hear  a  note  of  common  sense,  which  un- 
doubtedly did  not  remain  without  effect  upon  Hebrew  Hterature. 

The  names  of  two  critics  stand  out  prominently :  A.  J.  Paperno 
and  A.  Kovner,  both  of  whom  were  active  between  1864  and 
1870.  Neither  of  them  was  creative  in  this  field.  They  promul- 
'  gated  no  literary  laws,  nor  did  they  portray  any  literary  move- 
ment. Their  fame  rests  upon  a  pamphlet  or  two  ("  Kankan 
Hadash  Male  Yashan,"  1868,  by  A.  J.  Paperno;  "Heker  Dabar," 
1865,  "Zeror  Perohim,"  1868,  by  A.  Kovner),  where  they  effec- 
tively set  forth  the  literary  follies  rather  than  the  currents  of 
the  age.  They  show  no  great  critical  acumen  nor  any  deep 
understanding  of  literature.  Both  are  imbued  with  the  Haskalah 
spirit,  and  with  the  literary  and  critical  tendencies  of  Russian 
literature,  from  which  they  largely  drew  their  inspiration.  Their 
point  of  view  is  chiefly  utilitarian;  hence  they  judged  a  literary 
production  at  its  face  value  rather  than  according  to  its  intrinsic 
artistic  merits.  Yet  they  rendered  a  signal  service  to  Hebrew 
literature,  at  least  as  far  as  externals  are  concerned.  The  spirit 
by  which  they  were  influenced  and  under  which  they  labored, 
naturally  excluded  every  superfluity,  everything  purely  ornate 
in  literature  as  well  as  in  life.  Hence,  their  sustained  attack 
upon  the  flowery  Melizah  style  of  Hebrew,  which  often  sacrificed 
sense  to  a  nice  turn  of  a  Biblical  phrase,  and  upon  similar 
tawdry,  conventional  abuses  of  the  language.  The  strictures  of 
these  two  critics,  to  be  sure,  were  not  received  with  very  good 
grace  by  their  contemporaries.  But  they  undoubtedly  contrib- 
uted more  than  a  mite  to  the  simplification  of  Hebrew  style. 

These  were  the  most  prominent  critics  of  the  time.  For  the 
rest,  Hebrew  literary  criticism  confined  itself  almost  exclusively 
to  reviews  of  books. 


1 


56 


CHAPTER  V 

PERETZ   BEN   MOSHE  SMOLENSKIN 
(1839-1884) 

The  biographer  of  Peretz  Ben  Moshe  Smolenskin,  R.  Brainin, 
is  obviously  right  in  saying  that  the  Smolenskin  whom  we  know 
from  his  novels  and  essays,  is  not  the  one  that  might  have  been, 
had  he  written  under  different  circumstances.  In  his  works  we 
see  only  his  silhouette,  not  his  real  portrait.  While  his  literary 
personality  and  great  talent  were  still  in  the  making,  his  life 
was  cut  short,  and  Hebrew  literature  was  bereft  of  one  of  its 
sincerest,  most  talented,  and  most  sympathetic  writers. 

It  would  perhaps  seem  strange,  at  first  sight,  to  speak  of  a 
writer  of  forty  five,  who  already  had  behind  him  some  fifteen 
years  of  literary  activity,  as  still  having  been  in  his  literary  teens. 
The  talents  of  Byron  and  Poe  were  fully  developed  before  they 
had  reached  the  years  of  Smolenskin,  and  they  would  probably 
not  have  added  much  to  their  fame,  had  they  attained  to  twice 
their  actual  age.  The  literary,  at  least,  the  poetic,  career  of 
Lamartine  was  practically  ended  at  forty,  though  he  lived  to  be 
well  advanced  in  years.  In  the  case  of  Smolenskin,  however, 
every  page  of  his  writings  testifies  to  the  fact  that  we  have  before 
us  a  man  of  great  literary  power,  but,  at  the  same  time,  that  this 
power  is  artistically  unripe,  warped,  and  uncontrolled.  And 
little  wonder.  Neither  were  his  pre-literary  life  and  training 
conducive  to  an  adequate  preparation  for  his  literary  career,  nor 
did  the  conditions  under  which  he  carried  on  his  activity  tend 
fully  to  bring  out  his  literary  powers.  Born  in  poverty  and 
brought  up  partly  under  the  influence  of  the  Yeshiboth  (Tal- 
mudic  academies),  and  partly  under  that  of  Hasidism, — in  an 
atmosphere,  hostile  to  the  spirit  of  modernism  and  secular 
literature,  Smolenskin  received  neither  the  education  nor  the 
literary  training  necessary  for  the  essayist,  novelist,  and  spiritual 

67 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

leader  he  later  became.  And  even  after  he  had  attained,  by 
sheer  richness  of  talent,  greatness  of  heart,  and  personal  energy, 
to  that  ambitious  eminence,  his  work  was  carried  on  under  the 
stress  of  such  abject  need  and  forced  hurry, ^  that  he  was  not  in  a 
position  to  attend  to  artistic  workmanship.  For,  Smolenskin 
was  a  very  busy  man,  dividing  his  time  between  editing  and 
managing  a  Hebrew  monthly — "Ha-Shahar" — directing  a  print- 
ing firm,  writing  essaj^s,  novels,  and  criticisms,  and  taking  a 
goodly  share  in  general  Jewish  affairs, — all  of  which,  however, 
barely  yielded  him  a  livelihood. 

Smolenskin's  literary  activity  (1869-84)  extends  over  the  end 
of  the  Haskalah  period  and  the  beginning  of  the  revival  of  the 
Jewish  national  spirit,  as  it  expressed  itself  in  the  form  of  the 
Hibbath  Zion  movement. 

What  the  second  phase  of  Haskalah  was,  we  have  had  occasion 
to  see.  By  the  end  of  this  period  a  reaction  set  in.  Even  the 
arch  enemies  of  ultra-orthodox  Judaism,  such  as  Lilienblum  and 
Gordon,  saw  that  they  had  gone  too  far,— too  far  from  the 
point  of  view  of  Jewish  nationalism.  For  the  later  phase  of  the 
Haskalah  movement  had  been  essentially,  though  not  con- 
sciously, assimilatory.  "Be  a  Jew  in  your  own  house,  but  a 
man  in  society," — had  been  the  cry.  But,  as  a  result,  the 
man  was  beginning  to  assert  himself  at  the  expense  of  the 
Jew,  just  as  the  life  of  the  world  without  was  beginning  to 
replace  the  inner  Jewish  life,  that  of  the  Jewish  home,  of  the 
synagog,  of  the  Yeshibah.  Reality  overreached  and  deceived  the 
devotees  of  the  Haskalah;  and  therein  lies  the  tragedy  of  the 
movement.  The  Maskilim  of  the  rank  and  file  proved  a  failure, 
as  Jewish  men  and  women.  Even  the  enlightened  Rabbis  and 
teachers,  upon  whom  the  leaders  had  laid  so  much  hope,  betrayed 

1  The  following  may  be  cited  as  examples  of  Smolenskin's  hurried  writing : 
In  one  of  his  novels,  "The  Inheritance,"  he  confuses  the  names  of  the  heroines 
in  the  second  part  of  the  story.  And  literary  tradition  has  it,  moreover, 
that  he  once  wrote  a  whole  story  of  some  sixty  compact  pages  in  print  at  one 
sitting,  because  he  had  to  feed  the  printer's  devil  in  one  of  the  current  numbers 
of  "Ha-Shahar,"  which  was  to  appear  on  the  next  morning, — a  feat  that  re- 
minds one  of  John  Wilson,  editor  of  "Blackwoods." 

58 


PERETZ   BEN   MOSHE   SMOLENSKIN 

them.  They  formed  a  class  for  themselves,  haughty  and  selfish, 
standing  apart  from  Jewish  interests,  looking  down  upon  their 
brethren  that  still  sat  in  the  "benighted"  Ghetto,  and  occupying 
the  function  of  slaves  to  the  Russian  government  rather  than- 
that  of  teachers  and  leaders  of  their  people.  This  condition 
naturally  could  not  but  wring  out  a  cry  of  despair  from  the  leaders 
of  the  Maskilim,  at  least  from  the  Hebrew  section. 

The  positive  expression  of  this  reaction  was  the  national 
revival,  which  began  as  a  comparatively  widespread  and  popular 
movement,  in  the  early  eighties,  after  the  notorious  anti-Jewish^ 
jiots  in  Russia.  This  movement,  which  expressed  itself  at  first 
in  the  form  of  Hibbath-Zion  (The  Love  of  Zion),  i.  e.,  a  return 
lo  the  land,  the  language,  and  the  faith  of  the  ancestors,  is 
regarded  by  some  as  the  product  of  Jewish  repression.  Nothing 
can  be  more  superficial  than  this  opinion.  There  are  no  sudden 
leaps  and  bounds  in  nature.  Even  earthquakes  have  their 
history  of  evolution.  The  Hibbath-Zion  movement,  quickened 
and  ripened  as  it  was  by  the  national  calamities  in  the  eighties, 
is  undoubtedly  to  be  attributed  to  the  reaction  against  the 
Haskalah  movement.  And  if  proof  be  needed  for  this  assertion, 
we  may  go  to  the  living  fact,  Smolenskin,  who  was  the  strongest 
link  between  the  two  movements. 

In  Smolenskin  we  see  the  unmistakeable  evolution  from  the 
Haskalah  to  the  revival  movement.  He,  too,  saw  in  Haskalah 
a  means  of  uplifting  his  people,  and  he,  too,  made  Hasidism  a 
target  at  which  he  sped  some  of  his  winged  and  most  pointed 
arrows.  The  "  Ha-Shahar,"  moreover,  was  one  of  the  strongholds 
of  the  Maskilim,  to  which  the  most  militant  of  them  contributed 
their  materials.  Yet,  Smolenskin  did  not  follow  the  old  grooves 
which  they  had  cut  out  for  him.  He  was  more  penetrating  and 
more  constructive  in  his  views  and  ideas.  In  his  consuming 
love  for  his  people,  Smolenskin  felt  even  at  the  beginning  of  his 
career,  what  the  Maskilim  were  to  realize  later,  that  they  were  \ 
over-shooting  the  mark  in  their  zeal  for  Haskalah. 

Smolenskin  developed,  in  a  series  of  essays  published  in  "  Ha- 
Shahar,"  an  almost  systematic  theory  of  the  evolution  of  Jewish 

59 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

history, — a  theory  that,  to  a  great  extent,  dominates  his  works 
and  draws  a  sharp  Hne  of  distinction  between  him  and  the 
MaskiUm.  His  view  is  ideahstic,  in  contradistinction  from  theirs 
which  was  materiahstic.  Notice,  for  example,  the  difference 
between  the  materiahstic  view  taken  by  Gordon  in  the  poem 
"Zedekiah  in  the  Guard  House"  and  the  ideologic  view  taken 
by  Smolenskin  in  his  essay  "Am  01am,"  as  regards  the  part 
played  by  the  prophets  in  Jewish  history,  and  you  will  see 
what  a  contrast  there  is  between  the  conception  of  the  latter 
and  that  of  the  Maskilim  as  regards  Judaism. 

Smolenskin's  view  of  Jewish  history  is  not  quite  scientific,  but 
it  is  full  of  penetration  and  is  instinct  with  warm  feeling  for  his 
people.  The  history  of  the  Jewish  people  is,  according  to  Smolen- 
skin, indissolubly  connected  with  that  of  the  Torah,  not  in  its 
theologic  sense,  but  in  its  moral  significance.  The  Torah  was 
given  to  the  Jews  with  the  purpose  of  uplifting  them  spirit- 
ually. The  external  frame  that  held  them  together  at  the 
beginning  of  their  national  existence  was,  of  course,  their  own 
country;  but  what  united  them  as  a  spiritual  body  and  gave  them 
their  characteristic  tone  was  the  Torah.  It  was  the  spirit  of 
the  Torah  and  its  moral  greatness  that  imbued  the  Jews  with 
national  endurance  and  elasticity  even  after  they  had  lost  their 
national  independence.  And  Smolenskin  lays  stress  upon  the 
point  that  the  Jews  have  remained  a  nation  to  this  day  and  are 
not  merely  a  religious  sect,  as  the  German-Jewish  philosopher, 
Moses  Mendelsohn,  asserted.  Against  this  latter  theory  and  its 
corollary,  the  so-called  Berlin  Haskalah,  Smolenskin  severely 
inveighed,  pointing  out  its  denationalizing  tendency  and  the 
national  havoc  which  it  had  wrought  among  the  immediate 
disciples  of  Mendelsohn,  as  well  as  among  later  generations. 
This  judgement  passed  upon  Mendelsohn's  theory — and,  by  the 
way,  also  upon  the  man  himself, — in  one  of  Smolenskin's  most 
penetrating  essays,  "Eth  Laasoth,"  naturally  met  with  resent- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  Maskilim,  who  considered  themselves 
the  heritors  of  the  Berlin  Haskalah ;  but  it  was  ultimately  adopted 
in  Hebrew  literature  as  a  truism. 

60 


PERETZ   BEN   MOSHE   SMOLENSKIN 

From  this  view  of  Jewish  history  held  by  Smolenskin  arises  his 
opposition  to  the  extreme  reform  movement,  in  the  shape  which 
it  assumed  among  the  German  Jews,  and  his  difference  of  opinion 
with  the  MaskiHm  as  regards  the  educational  endeavors  among 
the  Jews.  Since  the  Torah  is  not  merely  a  religious  code  but  a 
product  of,  as  well  as  a  stimulus  to,  the  national  spirit,  and  since 
it  continued  to  develop  along  national  lines  all  through  Jewish 
history,  it  follows  that  it  cannot  entirely  be  stripped  of  its  later 
forms,  and  be  based  simply  upon  a  couple  of  dogmas;  for  then 
you  strip  it  of  its  whole  significance,  which  is  really  national,  and 
make  it  a  mere  theologic  abstraction.  It  is  true  that  Jewish 
religion  needs  a  pruning,  on  account  of  some  undesirable  shoots 
which  have  overgrown  it  during  long  ages ;  but  this  should  by  no 
means  be  done  artificially.  Educate  the  people  and  the  reforms 
will  come  by  themselves.  There  is  no  use  in  demanding  of  a 
blind  person  that  he  appreciate  the  beauties  of  nature;  open  his 
eyes  and  nature  will  reveal  itself  to  him  in  all  its  grandeur. 

Another  factor  in  Jewish  nationalism,  perhaps  more  important 
than  religion,  was,  for  Smolenskin,  the  Hebrew  language  and 
literature.  If  religion  is  one  means  of  preserving  national 
existence,  Hebrew  is  the  only  repository  for  the  national  attri- 
butes and  creations.  Hence,  Hebrew  should  be  cherished  as  a 
prime  national  factor  jjer  se.  And  in  this  respect,  again,  he 
differs  from  the  Maskilim,  for  whom  Hebrew  was  a  preferable, 
but  not  an  essential,  channel  of  IlaskalaL. 


[n  these  two  things,  then,  in  the  reversion  to  Jewish  religion 
and  in  regarding  Hebrew  as  essential  to  nationalism,  Smolenskin 
"wasTEeTorerunner  of  the  national  revival  movement.  The  third 
and  most  important  requisite  of  the  revival,  the  rehabilitation  of 
Palestine,  was  at  first  disregarded  by  Smolenskin,  evolving  with 
him  only  in  the  course  of  years. 

— Ht'"have  gone  to  the  length  of  discussing  Smolenskin's  theory  of 
Jewish  history,  not  only  because  it  is  interesting  in  itself,  or  in 
order  to  point  out  the  difference  between  him  and  the  Maskilim, 
but  because  it  is  necessary  to  the  understanding  of  his  novels 
and  of  the  development  of  Hebrew  literature  as  a  whole.     Smol- 

61 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

enskin  came  to  the  latter  with  a  new  message, — one  that  was  more 
positive  and  constructive  than  that  of  the  Maskihm.  For  him, 
Hebrew  as  such  was  of  paramount  importance.  And  though 
encouraging  Haskalah  and  himself  marked  by  many  a  trait  of 
the  Maskil,  he  freed  Hebrew  literature,  by  theory  and  practice, 
from  the  Haskalah  tendency,  from  the  tyranny  of  bias,  making 
it  an  aim  in  itself  and  not  merely  a  means  of  conveying  certain 
opinions.  In  this  manner,  Hebrew  literature  was  given  more 
scope  for  the  purely  artistic  and  literary,  and  for  the  freer 
development  of  individual  character. 

Though  Smolenskin  contributed  to  the  advancement  of  Hebrew 
literature  by  freeing  it,  in  a  measure,  from  the  onesidedness  of 
tendency,  he  could  not  entirely  liberate  his  own  novels  from  the 
shackles  of  the  age.  As  regards  appreciation  of  nature,  for  ex- 
ample, his  novels  are  as  deficient  as  the  other  stories  of  the 
time.  Not  a  bit  of  blue  sky,  fleecy  cloud,  or  green  turf  do  we 
find  in  them;  they  carry  us  along  on  their  swift  currents  of 
events,  without  giving  us  time  to  admire  a  beautiful  scene  that 
we  may  meet  on  our  way.  Nor  is  the  art  in  his  novels  flawless. 
Smolenskin  was,  it  is  true,  a  man  of  temperament;  but  his 
temperament  was  that  of  the  preacher  rather  than  that  of  the- 
artist.  The  plot  is  not  so  loose,  flimsy,  and  irrational  as,  let  us 
say,  that  of  Mapu's  "Ayit  Zabua;"  but  there  is  much  even  in 
Smolenskin's  novels  that  is  questionable  and  out  of  joint.  In 
general,  to  use  a  figure  of  Brunetiere,  his  novels  float  about  in  their  ^ 
frames,  for  Smolenskin  makes  great  use  of  character  and  event 
for  the  purpose  of  sermonizing,  moralizing,  and  perorating  on 
anything  and  everything  under  the  sun.  And  as  it  happens 
with  many  an  author  whose  vanity  gets  the  better  of  his  artistic 
taste,  Smolenskin  prided  himself  upon  his  commonplace  phi- 
losophizing more  than  upon  the  really  enduring  phases  of  his 
novels.  Thus,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  he  expresses  his  great  satis- 
faction at  the  rather  banal  discussion  of  the  relation  of  Hamlet 
to  Faust,  which,  in  his  eyes,  surpasses  in  importance  the  whole 
novel  "The  Joy  of  the  Wicked,"  in  which  he  succeeded  in  casting 
up  some  interesting  psychologic  problems. 

62 


PERETZ  BEN   MOSHE   SMOLENSKIN 

If  Smolenskin  is  diffusive  in  the  plot  of  his  novel,  he  is,  how- 
ever, capable  of  dealing  with  a  single  situation  in  a  masterly 
manner.  Witness,  for  example,  the  scene  between  the  Austrian 
Jewish  detective  and  the  typically  Viennese  girl  ("The  Inheri- 
tance," pt.  3,  ch.  2).  See  also  the  conversation  between  the 
"  batlanim ""  (typical  Talmudic  students)  in  the  synagog,  in 
the  introductory  chapter  of  J^'The  Ass's  Burial,"  and  also  part 
of  the  scene  between  the  emigrants  to  America  ("Pride  and 
Overthrow"), — in  all  these  you  will  find  an  abundance  of  humor 
and,  at  the  same  time,  a  knowledge  of  men  in  the  various  pur- 
suits of  life. 

The  knowledge  of  men, — this  is  another  characteristic  that 
distinguishes  Smolenskin  from  the  Maskilim.  The  views  and  the 
sympathies  of  the  latter  were  narrow,  bookish;  the  atmosphere 
was  attenuated,  and  the  sphere  of  activity  limited  to  one  class, 
the  middle  class,  which  was,  in  its  turn,  artificially  divided  into 
"enlightened"  and  "unenlightened."  InSmolenskin's  novels, 
the  range  of  view  is  wide,  comprehensive.  It  embraces  not  only 
various  classes  but  also  various  nations.  See,  for  example, 
"Ha-Toeh  BeDarkey  Ha-IIayyim,"  his  best  known  novel,  which 
like  "David  Coppcrfiel<l,"  though  with  less  coherence  of  events, 
is  the  "truth  and  fiction"  about  the  life  of  the  author.  What  a 
kaleidoscopic  view  we  get  here  of  personages,  classes,  and 
peoples!  Not  only  Russian  Jewry  passes  in  review  before  us, 
in  a  great  many  phases  and  in  a  variety  of  classes,  but  also  the 
Jewries  of  some  other  countries,  the  author  reflecting,  at  the 
same  time,  in  marginal  acute  remarks  upon  other  nationalities. 
It  must,  however,  be  owned  that  Smolenskin  was  not  always 
just  in  dealing  with  other  nationalities,  his  attitude  towards  them 
being  at  times  prejudiced  by  the  love  he  bore  his  own  nation. 
His  view  of  the  Polish  revolution  may  serve  as  an  example  of 
his  bias.  With  a  great  deal  of  truth  about  the  inefficiency  of 
the  Polish  revolutionaries,  the  bragging  and  vanity  of  their 
leaders  and  their  petty  quarrels  for  office,  and,  particularly,  their 
thanklessness  towards  their  Jewish  allies,  he  yet  treated  them 
with  a  severity  and  lack  of  sympathy  tantamount  to  cruelty. 

63 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Smolenskin's  novels  mark  a  departure  in  Hebrew  literature  in 
many  other  important  directions.  In  the  first  place,  he  intro- 
duced real  tragedy  into  the  Hebrew.  His  predecessors,  such  as 
Mapu,  kept  tragedy  in  the  background.  They  worked,  so  to 
say,  deductively.  When  they  introduce  us  to  the  scene  of 
action,  the  great  crime — the  pivot  of  the  story — has  already 
been  committed.  The  virtuous  person,  i.  e.,  the  Maskil,  has 
been  put  out  of  the  way,  and  his  family,  also  composed  of  the 
enlightened,  is  now  suffering  at  the  hands  of  villainy;  but  we 
can  predict  from  the  very  beginning  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
virtue.  It  is  true  that  Smolenskin's  contemporaries,  Gordon, 
for  example,  who  aimed  at  demonstrating  the  ill  results  of 
bigotry  and  superstition,  have  given  us  tragedies;  they  were, 
however,  not  real,  dramatic,  but  pseudo,  tragedies.  There  was 
no  play  of  will  against  will,  but  of  idea  against  idea.  The 
characters  were  abstractions,  without  individuality.  Will, 
character,  did  not  count  for  much,  for  the  disaster  came  about 
by  the  hard  heartedness  of  a  Rabbi  or  a  predeterminate  religious 
law.  Smolenskin,  on  the  contrary,  presented  tragedy  in  its 
really  tragic  and  dramatic  elements.  Not  that  he  was  more 
pessimistic  than  the  Maskilim.  He  who  entitled  one  of  his 
novels  "The  Reward  of  the  Virtuous,"  ending  it  with  the  exulting 
words:  "Truly,  this  is  the  reward  of  the  Righteous!" — can 
indeed  not  be  accused  of  pessimism.  But,  his  range  of  view 
being  more  comprehensive  than  that  of  the  Maskilim,  he  found  in 
life  more  tragedy  than  they.  Besides,  being  a  person  of  great 
strength  of  will  and  character,  and  of  indomitable  energy,  it  was 
natural  for  him  to  endow  his  heroes  with  the  same  qualities. 
Hence,  the  really  dramatic  element  in  his  novels. 

The  psychologic  element,  then,  plays  a  great  part  in  Smolen- 
skin's novels;  indeed,  if  it  does  not  always  form  the  axis  upon 
which  they  revolve,  it  at  least  constitutes  a  component  part  of 
them.  Even  in  "Ha-Toeh  BeDarkey  Ha-Hayyim,"  primarily  a 
novel  of  manners,  the  character  of  the  main  hero  evolves  into  tragic 
individuality;  consumed  as  he  is  by  sexual  love  for  his  own  sister, 
whom  he,  at  first,  did  not  know  to  be  any  relative  of  his,  and 

64 


PERETZ   BEN   MOSHE  SMOLENSKIN 

finally  killed  when  hurling  himself  in  passionate  despair  against 
a  rioting  mob  in  Russia.  Similarly,  the  heroes  of  his  other 
novels.  Note  the  boldly  delineated  psychic  features  of  the 
passionate  heroine  of  "The  Inheritance,"  Peninah,  with  all  the 
consciousness  of  the  shame  of  her  sinful  parents,  and  her  im- 
petuous humbling  of  herself  before  her  friends,  on  account  of  it. 
Contrast,  at  the  same  time,  her  character  with  that  of  the  calm, 
brilliant  Viennese  girl,  in  the  same  novel;  healthy,  charming, 
lively,  full  of  wit,  with  a  loving  heart  and  a  pleasant  admixture 
of  innocence  and  common  gense.  Witness,  again,  the  noble,  but 
fitful  and  whimsical  hero  of  the  same  story,  Zerahiah,  who  brings 
upon  himself,  because  of  his  eccentricities,  a  host  of  misfortunes 
and  a  series  of  real  or  imaginary  humiliations.  Finally,  Smolen- 
skin,  in  at  least  two  of  his  novels,  makes  individuality  the  very 
pivot  of  the  story.  In  "The  Ass's  Burial,"  the  ultimate  ruin  and 
death  of  the  hero  are  the  results  of  his  boastful  and  vainglorious 
character;  and  the  motive  of  "The  Joy  of  the  Wicked"  hinges 
upon  the  fickleness  of  the  hero,  who  abandons  his  beautiful  wife 
and  child  to  follow  a  commonplace  girl. 

When  we  speak  of  the  psychologic  element  of  Smolenskin's 
novels,  however,  it  is  to  be  understood  in  the  relative  sense  of 
the  word,  as  compared  with  other  Hebrew  novels  of  the  time. 
Considered  by  themselves,  they  leave  many  a  psychologic  gap. 
The  characters  are  at  times  blurred  and  indistinct.  The  dis- 
tinctive traits  of  the  hero  in  the  "The  Ass's  Burial,"  for  example, 
are  not  clearly  enough  delineated  to  justify  the  motive  of  the 
story.  Again,  when  Smolenskin  happens  upon  a  problematic 
character,  he  is  sometimes  at  a  loss  as  to  the  manner  of  handling 
it.  Take,  for  example,  the  heroine  of  the  story  related  by  the 
"friend  of  Zarhi,"  in  "Pride  and  Overthrow."  The  author 
introduces  us  to  a  girl  of  the  type  of  George  Eliot's  Gwendolen, 
very  beautiful  and  very  whimsical,  whose  word  is  law  unto  her 
parents  and  who  sets  the  hearts  of  all  young  men  aflame.  He 
leaves  this  enigmatic  character,  however,  so  well  adapted  for 
deeper  psychologic  study,  entirely  undeveloped,  and,  moreover, 
gives  the  story  the  ridiculous  ending  of  making  the  heroine  elope 
6  65 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

with  a  Polish  nobleman,  who  afterwards  drives  her  to  commit 
moral  suicide, — an  ending  that  has  become  almost  a  hobby  with 
Smolenskin,  at  least,  in  some  episodes  of  his  novels.  And 
speaking  of  this  heroine,  one  cannot  help  thinking  of  another 
interesting  feature  in  the  novels  of  Smolenskin,  namely,  the 
stress  that  he  lays  upon  Jewish  education  as  a  factor  in  the 
development  of  character,  pointing  out,  in  this  story  and  in  many 
others,  the  moral  ills  engendered  by  the  lack  of  such  education, — 
a  theory  quite  in  keeping  with  his  national  views. 

Finally,  a  word  as  to  the  style  of  Smolenskin.  This  author  is 
a  purist,  but  not  in  the  same  sense  as  Mapu  had  been.  He 
never  hesitated  to  make  use  of  a  Biblical  phrase,  whenever  it 
suited  his  purpose;  but  he  did  not  abuse  this  practice,  always 
avoiding  the  pun  and  quibble  of  the  Melizah.  His  style  is 
energetic,  exuberant,  and  full  of  life;  but  there  is  a  total  absence 
in  it  of  the  imaginative  and  the  figurative,  which  are  essential 
qualities  in  the  style  of  fiction. 

In  short,  Smolenskin's  novels  mark  an  advance  in  Hebrew 
literature.  He  freed  the  latter  from  the  tyranny  of  bias,  of 
tendency  and,  at  the  same  time,  began  the  emancipation  of  the 
individual  in  fiction,  bringing  in  the  personal  element  and 
thereby  giving  character  and  individuality  free  scope  to  develop. 
By  his  energy,  earnestness,  and  personal  charm,  moreover,  he 
gave  the  Hebrew  an  impetus  which  raised  it  to  a  height  more 
considerable  than  that  to  which  it  had  ever  before  risen  during 
the  last  century.  His  influence  was  great  both  upon  his  con- 
temporaries and  upon  later  writers.  In  his  lifetime  he  drew 
about  himself  a  circle  of  literary  friends  and  he  helped  to  develop 
many  a  young  talent;  and  after  he  was  gone,  his  impress  still 
remained  upon  Hebrew  thought  and  Hebrew  letters. 


66 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  REVIVAL  MOVEMENT 

The  revival  period  in  Hebrew  literature,  as  well  as  in  Jewish 
life,  was  one  of  reaction  to  that  of  the  Haskalah  movement. 
We  have  seen  that  the  latter  was,  in  the  main,  negative,  and 
not  apt  to  endear  Jewishness  to  its  votaries.  It  did  not  directly 
touch  the  masses  of  the  people,  but  upon  the  Maskilim  it  had, 
in  a  measure,  a  disintegrating  effect.  A  movement  such  as  this 
could  not  for  long  remain  at  full  tide.  The  people  as  a  whole 
was  Jewish,  nationalistically  Jewish;  and  their  economic  and 
political  sufferings,  moreover,  were  not  alleviated  by  the  en- 
deavors of  the  Haskalah.  What  the  Maskilim  did  accomplish 
was  the  freedom  and  tolerance  of  religious  opinion  within  Jewry 
itself;  but  what  about  their  belief  in  Haskalah  as  the  medium 
through  which  to  solve  Jewish  problems  in  relation  to  the  outside 
world?  This  was  a  dream  that  flitted  away  as  soon  as  they 
rubbed  their  eyes  and  awoke  to  the  truth.  And  the  truth,  the 
reality  was  disappointing  in  the  extreme.  Hence  the  note  of 
despair  in  the  writings  of  the  period  at  its  twilight. 

The  natural  decadence  of  the  Haskalah,  then,  and  the  potent 
influence  of  Smolenskin  were  the  negative  and  positive  forces 
respectively,  that  prepared  the  way  for  the  revival  movement. 
That,  however,  which  gave  the  strongest  impetus  to  the  latter, 
were  the  riots  against  the  Jews  in  Russia  during  1881-82.  This 
cruel  occurrence  effected  at  one  blow  what  it  would  have  taken 
decades  of  quiet  propaganda  to  accomplish.  It  brought  back 
to  the  fold  those  who  had  strayed  away;  it  tore  the  people  away 
from  disintegrating  external  influences,  and  it  created  a  Jewish 
national  policy.  It  aroused  the  slumbering  consciousness  of 
the  Jews,  and  taught  them  to  seek  their  salvation  not  in  assimi- 
lation with  other  peoples,  not  in  a  currying  of  favor  with  them 
by  means  of  a  slavish  imitation  of  their  manners  and  customs, 

67 


/ 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

but  in  segregation,  in  an  internal  strengthening  and  developing 
of  their  own  resources. 

This  new  movement,  which  assumed  the  concrete  form  of 
"Hibbath  Zipn,"  a  forerunner  of  political  Zionism,  was  a  rever- 
sion to  a  distinctively  Jewish  life,  to  the  language  of  the  an- 
cestors as  a  living  tongue,  and  to  the  land  of  the  ancestors  as  a 
source  of  vital  strength.  Its  influence  upon  Jewish  reality  was 
immense.  Between  the  years  1882  and  1891,  when  Hibbath 
Zion  reached  its  high  water  mark,  some  forty  or  fifty  thousand 
Jews  left  eastern  Europe  and  settled  in  Palestine.  There  they 
built  up  a  number  of  colonies,  and  founded  a  community  which 
was  later  to  create  a  national  and  cultural  atmosphere  of  no 
mean  significance.  Schools  and  societies  sprang  up  in  all  parts 
of  the  diaspora,  for  the  purpose  of  reviving  the  Hebrew  language. 
As  for  the  literature,  it  was  no  longer  to  be  regarded  simply  as  a 
medium  for  propaganda,  but  as  an  aim  in  itself,  as  a  literature 
that  should  express  the  national  genius  and  embody  Jewish 
cultural  life. 

The  evolution  of  Hibbath  Zion  into  a  fully  conscious  national 
movement  was,  however,  a  gradual  process.  In  its  inception, 
it  was  a  vague  reality.  To  the  masses,  in  so  far  as  it  had  enlisted 
their  sympathy  and  cooperation,  it  meant  but  a  means  of  escape 
from  immediate  suffering.  The  journalist  regarded  it  merely  as 
a  solution  to  the  material  Jewish  problems;  whereas  to  the  poet 
it  was  an  undefined  romantic  yearning  for  the  old  glory  of  mother 
Zion.  That  it  was,  at  first,  no  more  than  this  sort  of  yearning, 
can  best  be  seen  from  the  attitude  of  the  poets  that  ushered  in 
this  revival  period  in  Hebrew  literature:  M.  Z.  Mane,  M.  M. 
Dolitzky,  and  C.  Shapiro. 

Mane  began  his  literary  activity  in  1879,  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
but  was  not  destined  to  develop  a  talent  that  was  of  no  mean 
degree:  for  he  wasted  away  of  consumption  in  1885.  His  poetic 
career  thus  falls  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  Haskalah  and  at  the 
beginning  of  the  revival  period.  From  the  former  he  inherited  I 
the  puristic  style,  the  hendecasyllabic  line,  and  the  sestet  stanza.  / 
Otherwise,  there  is  a  wide  gap  between  him  and  the  poets  of 

68 


THE  REVIVAL   MOVEMENT 

that  age.  And  the  distinction  is  not  merely  due  to  the  difference 
in  period,  but  it  is  also,  and  perhaps  mainly,  temperamental. 
For  Mane  was  an  artist  by  profession,  a  painter  of  promise, — a 
fact  that  is  of  great  importance  in  his  case.  This  accounts  for 
his  great  devotion  to  art  and  nature  for  their  own  sake,  and 
this  also  explains  the  fact  that  though  he  belonged  to  the  new 
period,  he  was  not  its  mouthpiece  in  so  conscious  a  manner  as, 
for  instance,  Dolitzky. 

Mane  came  to  Hebrew  literature  with  a  new  precept:  art  foi 
art's  sake,  or  beauty  for  its  own  sake.  As  a  theory,  he  formu- 
lated  it  in  one  of  his  essays,  "The  Aim  of  the  Arts  and  Their 
Function."  "The  aim  of  the  arts,  of  poetry,  music,  and  the 
plastic  arts,"  he  says,  "is  beauty  ....  For  beauty  is  an  aim 
in  itself."  Had  an  utterance  such  as  this  ever  before  fallen  from 
the  lips  of  a  Hebrew!  And  this  theory  Mane,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  applied  in  practice  to  his  poems.  He  lived  in 
an  artistic  world  of  his  own,  and  his  absorption  in  art  and  in 
nature  was  so  thorough  that  he  entirely  forgot  the  living  world 
around  him.  Not  a  word  of  protest  against  the  atrocities  com- 
mitted upon  the  Jews  in  Russia,  in  1881-2,  is  heard  in  his  poems; 
nor  do  we. find  in  them  a  trace  of  such  a  necessary  component  of 
lyric  poetry  as  love. 

There  are  some  points  of  resemblance  between  Mane  and  one^ 
of  his  predecessors,  Micah  J.  Lebensohn.  Both  shared  the  same 
fate,  dying  young  and  of  the  same  disease,  and  both  were  enam- 
ored of  the  beautiful.  But  with  this  the  resemblance  is  ex- 
hausted; for  the  rest,  there  is  the  difference  of  individuality  be- 
tween them.  Lebensohn's  central  passion  is  love,  which  he 
worshipped  even  at  the  expense  of  art;  Mane's  master  passion  is 
art,  even  to  the  exclusion  of  love.  Lebensohn  is  the  stronger, 
the  more  passionate  nature:  Mane  is  the  gentler  nature  and  the 
greater  artist. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  number  of  Mane's  poems,  certainly  the 
most  interesting,  deal  with  nature.  One  finds  in  them,  it  is 
true,  no  great  variety  of  scenery.  The  arcana  of  nature  are  not 
revealed  to  the  poet;  nor  are  the  might  of  the  storm-tossed 

69 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

ocean  and  the  depth  of  the  forest  primeval  known  to  him.  It  is 
the  simple  scenery  of  European  Russia,  such  as  Mane  knew  it, 
of  which  he  sings.  He  loves  above  all  those  phenomena  of 
nature  which  accord,  in  their  calmness,  and,  perhaps,  also  in 
their  picturesqueness,  with  his  own  artistic  and  gentle  tempera- 
ment :  the  sunrise  and  sunset,  for  example,  which  either  form  the 
theme  of  a  great  many  of  his  poems  or,  at  least,  tinge  them  with 
their  colors.  Mane,  however,  makes  up  for  this  lack  of  scenic 
variety  by  the  diversity  of  presentation  of  these  simple  moods 
of  nature.  And  he  presents  them  as  the  impressionist  would 
paint  them:  here  and  there  a  vigorous  touch,  a  dab  of  light,  an 
expression  by  masses  of  color, — a  process  that  in  poetry,  how- 
ever, leaves  the  picture  at  times  somewhat  vague  and  unfinished. 

Mane,  unlike  Lebensohn,  was  too  much  preoccupied  with  his 
wasting  disease  to  be  able  to  abandon  himself  to  the  enjoyment 
of  life  and  to  give  vent  to  any  sort  of  hilarious  mood.  A  dreamy, 
melancholy  tone  vibrates  through  all  his  poems  and  a  desolate 
loneliness  pervades  even  the  verses  he  indited  to  his  friends. 
It  is  only  in  the  bosom  of  nature  that  he  finds  consolation: 
"  Were  it  not  for  the  birds  singing  so  brightly,  offering  their  songs 
in  cheery  delight,  and  the  odorous  flowers  refreshing  my  soul, 
appearing  before  me  in  multitude  of  colors;  were  it  not  for  the 
sparkling  stars,  the  eyes  of  heaven,  that  brighten  the  dark 
night  for  me, — my  soul  would  no  longer  yearn  for  life,  nor  the 
sparks  of  hope  rise  within  me."  It  is,  moreover,  through  the 
medium  of  nature,  through  its  simple  phenomena  that  Mane  has 
attained  to  a  deeply  religious  sentiment,  and  it  is  by  means  of 
communion  with  this  same  agency  that  he  thinks  and  sings  of 
mother  Zion. 

In  brief.  Mane  was  the  first  to  reintroduce  the  personal  ele- 
ment into  Hebrew  poetry;  and  he  did  it  with  a  vengeance, 
substituting  for  the  collective,  class  sentiment  of  the  Maskilim 
the  self-centered  individualistic  emotion  and  making  up  for 
their  neglect  of  nature  by  an  idolatrous  adoration  for  it  and 
absorption  in  it.  As  for  his  participation  in  the  temper  and  the 
aspirations  of  the  age,  "The  Love  of  Zion"  was  for  him — vague 

70 


THE  REVIVAL   MOVEMENT 

yearning  woven  into  the  woof  of  his  dreams  rather  than  a  pal» 
pable  reaHty  that  could  take  possession  of  his  whole  being. 

Some  time  before  his  death,  Judah  L.  Gordon  addressed  a  poem 
to  M.  M.  Dolitzky,  saying:  "Here  is  my  pen,  go  and  take  my 
place!"  This  happened  in  1891,  when  the  younger  poet  was 
compelled  to  leave  Russia  for  America.  Gordon  was  then  past 
his  poetic  activity,  and  Dolitzky,  too,  had  already  dehvered 
himself  of  the  best  there  was  in  him.  This  greeting,  therefore,  . 
on  the  part  of  the  former  was,  it  is  evident,  a  mere  complimentary 
rhetorical  flourish;  for  poor  as  Gordon  was  as  a  critic,  he  could 
not  have  found  in  Dolitzky's  verse  much  more  than  smoothness 
and  swing  to  justify  the  crowning  of  the  latter  as  poet  laureate 
after  himself.  For  Dolitzky  never  attained  the  breadth  of  view 
or  even  the  pathos  of  the  elder  poet.  He  brought  nothing  new 
to  Hebrew  literature;  nor  has  he  otherwise  shown  any  originality 
in  his  verse.  He  made  his  debut  with  a  narrative  poem,  of  little 
value,  which  represented  the  life  of  the  Hasidim  and  was  written 
in  the  style  and  tone  of  the  Haskalah  poetry.  Later  he  was 
carried  off  into  the  vortex  of  the  revival,  the  poetic  expression  of 
which  he  became. 

The  fame  of  Dolitzky  rests  chiefly  upon  his  Zionides,  some  of 
which  were  set  to  music  and  became  popular  songs.  If  these 
poems,  however,  were  critically  examined,  they  could  hardly 
stand  the  test;  for  they  would  be  found  cold,  declamatory,  preg- 
nant with  sentimentality  rather  than  with  sentiment.  But  the 
ease  and  smoothness  of  versification  and,  particularly,  the 
romantic  halo  with  which  the  poems  surrounded  "Mother 
Zion,"  or,  to  be  more  explicit,  the  halo  with  which  Mother  Zion 
encompassed  the  poems,  made  them  appear  unrivalled  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Hebrew  reader,  then  in  the  first  flush  of  the  revival. 
Yet,  it  would  be  unjust  to  Dolitzky  to  deny  him  sentiment 
altogether.  Poems  such  as  "On  the  Ruins  of  Zion"  and  "My 
Request"  show  both  nobility  and  reality  of  sentiment. 
""^-Dolitzky's  muse  became  atrophied  in  America,  a  land  that 
has  so  far  been  unfavorable  to  the  development  of  the  Hebrew 

71 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

language  and  literature.  He  produced  in  this  country,  too,  a 
number  of  poems,  a  ballad  of  the  time  of  the  crusades,  and  a 
longer,  rather  tedious,  narrative  poem,  which  he  seems  to  have 
written  or,  at  least,  begun  in  Europe,  but  only  a  fragment  of 
which  was  published  there.  Of  all  these  poems,  however,  only 
the  one  entitled  "Whose  Dawn  Art  Thou?",  on  the  flitting  hopes 
and  aspirations  of  youth, — though  not  displaying  any  originality, 
and  being,  in  the  main,  a  repetition  of  a  previous  production, 
"Visions  and  Errors," — yet  presents  some  inspired  lines. 

Dolitzky  also  wrote,  in  the  form  of  a  novel,  the  story  of  his 
expulsion  from  Russia;  and  in  America  he  took  to  writing 
Yiddish  stories  of  the  dime  novel  kind. 

I  Constantine  A.  Shapiro  (1840-1900),  is,  both  as  a  man  and 
as  a  writer,  perhaps  the  most  interesting  as  well  as  the  most 
tragic  figure  in  modern  Hebrew  literature.  In  his  youth,  he 
tasted  of  the  forbidden  fruit  of  the  Haskalah,  for  which  he  was 
persecuted  and  driven  from  home.  He  then  went  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, where  he  hoped  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  his  artistic 
temperament.  In  that  city  he  committed  the  crime  against 
himself  and  his  people  which  was  to  fill  him  for  the  rest  of  his 
life  with  remorse  and  bitterness.  He,  there,  joined  the  Greek 
Orthodox  Church.  And  this  step  was  made  not  out  of  con- 
viction, but  at  the  blind  impulse  of  a  momentary  feeling.  During 
the  first  days  of  his  stay  in  St.  Petersburg,  he  had  become  sick 
from  misery  and  starvation  and  had  been  taken  care  of  by  a 
Russian  girl,  poor,  simple,  and  kind.  Half  out  of  gratitude  and 
half  out  of  love,  he  led  her  to  the  altar,  receiving  her  hand  to- 
gether with  her  religion. 

From  that  time  on,  Shapiro  steadily  rose  in  worldly  affairs. 
Displaying  great  talent  in  photography,  he  became  the  court 
artist  of  a  Russian  prince  and  the  official  photographer  of  the 
academy  of  arts,  his  fame  spreading  all  over  the  Russian  capital, 
and  beyond  it.  But  he  paid  for  all  this  with  the  peace  of  his 
soul;  for,  from  the  moment  of  his  conversion  he  knew  no  rest. 
The  new  society,  into  which  he  had  entered,  was  not  congenial 
to  him. 

72 


THE   REVIVAL   MOVEMENT 

"In  vain  have  I  plunged  into  the  waters  of  Jordan, 
In  vain  have  I  sought  to  brighten  my  gloom; 
No  rest  shall  I  find  till  I  lie  in  my  tomb," — 

he  complains  in  one  of  his  pathetic  poems.  The  world  from 
which  he  had  departed,  on  the  other  hand,  spurned  him  as  a 
renegade.  His  passionate  soul,  therefore,  which  yearned  for 
sympathy  and  recognition  and  which  was  so  sensitive  to  blame, 
to  the  terrible  word  "  meshummad  "  (renegade),  was  rent  in  twain. 
A  number  of  poems,  intense  in  their  passion,  bear  witness  to  the 
self  torture,  to  the  mental  agony,  of  the  poet;  and  in  some  of 
them  his  overpowering  feeling  rises  to  a  white  heat  and  he  vents 
his  rage  not  only  against  himself,  but  against  the  world  as  a 
whole : 

"0  that  my  arms  could  the  world  infold 

And  my  lips  could  emit  some  swift  flaming  breath; 

'round  all  creation  Fd  tighten  my  hold. 

And  clasp  it  to  stifling,  kiss  it  to  death." 

And  he  was  so  haunted  by  the  offence  of  his  conversion,  that  he 
came  to  regard  it  not  as  a  voluntary  act  on  his  part,  but  as  the 
result  of  a  sort  of  fatality. 

In  contrast  with  this  strength  of  passion,  which  attests  Sha- 
piro's own  state  of  mind  and  feeling,  stands  the  gentleness  with 
which  he  approaches  Jewish  national  subjects.  He  expresses  a 
tenderness,  an  infinite  yearning  for  the  life  of  the  Ghetto  and  its 
ideals.  In  the  poems  dealing  with  these  subjects,  Shapiro's 
imagination  is  aglow  with  memories  and  portraits,  and  his  verse 
is  instinct  with  emotion  and  with  love  for  the  Jewish  people  and 
its  sacred  possessions.  Even  the  old  time  Hebrew  teacher, 
otherwise  not  a  great  favorite  with  the  modern  Jew,  touches  a 
tender  cord  in  his  heart,  whereas  the  teacher's  sweet,  innocent 
little  daughter  altogether  brightens  up  the  gloom  of  the  Heder 
(Hebrew  school).  Jewish  legends.  Biblical  figures  and  stories, 
tune  his  lyre  to  the  songs  of  the  rejuvenation  of  the  Jewish 
people,  and  to  the  "Prinzessin"  Sabbath  he  devotes  a  couple 
of  poems  Heinesque  in  their  representation  of  its  holiness  and 
sublimity. 

73 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

These  national  poems  must  have  been  a  balsam  to  Shapiro's 
wounded  heart.  The  intensity  of  his  passion  is  relaxed;  a  gentle 
sadness  pervades  them  all,  and  they  emit  a  warmth  that  pene- 
trates the  heart  like  new  wine.  Yet,  even  in  these  he  sometimes 
gives  vent  to  his  sullen  remorse.  Here  and  there  a  groan  is 
wrung  from  his  breast  or  a  note  of  despair  chimes  in,  which  tells 
the  tale  of  his  anguish  and  his  tortured  feelings.  And  in  a 
posthumous  poem  he  pictures  this  mental  state  in  an  excrutiating 
manner,  representing  himself  as  being  spurned  by  his  people  in 
the  midst  of  a  joyous  scene  in  the  rejuvenated  Zion. 

The  artistic  significance  of  Shapiro's  poems  is  not  very  great. 
There  is  in  them  a  constant  conscious  struggle  for  expression, — 
a  struggle  due  to  an  insufficient  knowledge  of  the  Hebrew;  and 
the  rhythm  suffers  accordingly.  Yet  Shapiro  contributed  to 
Hebrew  poetry  some  of  the  finest  verse  and  some  of  the  most 
original  figures,  of  which  the  following  stanza  may  serve  as  an 
illustration : 

"In  vain  are  you  shedding  the  brine  of  your  eyes; 
The  torment  within  will  nor  cease  nor  depart. 
Hell  you'll  not  quench  with  the  dew  of  the  skies, 
Nor  with  tears  will  you  still  the  live  flame  of  the  heart." 

These  poets,  then,  while  ushering  in  the  new  period  in  Hebrew 
literature  and  in  the  life  of  eastern  Jewry,  did  not  yet  give 
utterance  to  a  fully  conscious  national  sentiment,  such  as  was 
to  develop  in  the  nineties.  The  exponent  and  theoretician  of 
Jewish  nationalism  was  still  to  come,  and  the  Love  of  Zion  was, 
at  least  to  the  poets  of  the  time,  simply  a  more  modernized 
spiritual  Zion  of  the  prayer  book. 


74 


CHAPTER  VII 

SHALOM   JACOB  ABRAMOVITZ   AND 
SHALOM    RABINOVITZ 

Before  approaching  the  more  modern  phases  of  Hebrew 
hterature,  as  influenced  and  dominated  by  the  conscious  nation- 
aUstic  movement,  two  writers  are  to  be  considered,  who,  at  first 
glance,  seem  to  occupy  a  place  for  themselves,  apart  from  the 
course  of  evolution  of  Hebrew  literature,  but  who,  looked  at 
more  closely,  prove  to  be  links,  and  important  ones,  in  the  chain 
of  development.  These  are:  Shalom  Jacob  Abramovitz  and 
Shalom  Rabinovitz. 

When  we  left  Abramovitz  in  the  sixties  of  the  bygone  century, 
he  had  already  done  some  useful  work,  but  he  had  hardly  mani- 
fested any  signs  of  the  great  gifts  that  he  later  unfolded.  When 
he  reappeared  in  Hebrew  literature,  somewhere  about  1887,  his 
fame  as  a  story  writer  had  already  been  established.  He  had 
not  only  made  a  mark  in  literature,  but  he  had  struck  out  on  a 
new  path  all  by  himself.  When  he  had  left  Hebrew,  he  had 
done  so  with  the  express  purpose  of  going  down  to  bring  light 
into  the  humble  dwellings  of  those  Jews  for  whom  Yiddish,  not 
Hebrew,  was  the  medium  of  literary  expression.  He,  accordingly 
produced  some  of  his  best  works  in  Yiddish,  a  language  which  he 
greatly  enriched  with  his  peculiar  genius  and  for  which  he  created 
the  literary  style.  He  returned  to  Hebrew  only  after  its  ex- 
pansion under  the  national  influence,  when  it  had  reformed  its 
diction,  modernized  its  vocabulary,  and  widened  its  scope,  en- 
croaching even  upon  the  territory  of  the  Yiddish  among  the 
masses.  We  are,  however,  justified  in  speaking  of  Abramovitz 
as  a  Hebrew  writer,  not  only  because  he  did  some  original  work 
in  this  language,  but  also  because  he  translated  his  Yiddish  pro- 
ductions into  Hebrew, — a  translation  tantamount  to  original 
creation  as  regards  style,  the  reshaping  of  the  material,  and  the 
addition  of  new  features. 

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EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Abramovitz  is,  in  some  measure,  still  under  the  spell  of  the 
Haskalah  movement.  The  Maskil,  the  man  of  the  book,  is 
idealized  in  his  works,  and  at  times  set  up  as  a  kind  of  Christ 
suffering  for  humanity.  His  characters,  though  much  more 
distinct  than  those  of  the  Haskalah  novel,  generally  stand  out 
not  as  individuals  but  as  types.  Like  the  Maskilim,  again, 
though  from  a  different  point  of  view,  he  seeks  the  cause  of 
Jewish  misery  not  so  much  in  external  circumstances  as  in  the 
internal  condition  of  the  Jews.  Yet,  he  is  far  in  advance  of  the 
Maskilim,  not  only  in  point  of  talent  but  also  as  regards  tendency 
and  temperament.  The  very  fact  that  he  selects  his  heroes  from 
"the  lower  strata  of  society"  and  that  he  substitutes  the  eco- 
nomic for  the  religious  conditions  as  the  primary  cause  of  Jewish 
sufferings,  forms  a  wide  gap  between  him  and  the  Haskalah 
writers.  Yet  Abramovitz  lived  and  worked  mainly  in  the  pre- 
revival  period,  to  which,  in  a  large  measure,  he  owes  his  inspira- 
tion; he,  therefore,  could  not  break  through  this  charmed  circle 
even  during  the  later  period.  "I  was  drawn  thither"  (to  the 
bygone  age),  he  says,  in  his  humorous  way,  in  the  preface  to 
"The  Priziv,"  "to  that  corner  of  Jewish  life,  where  my  old 
familiar  heroes  live, — those  heroes  of  whom  I  used  to  tell  my 
audience  strange  and  fantastic,  weird  and  wonderful  stories. 
I  met  them,  thanked  be  the  Lord,  all  hale  and  sound,  with  their 
old  caprices  and  quaint  ways.  They  are  fruitful  and  they  mul- 
tiply, play  the  fool  at  times,  and,  as  formerly,  pull  each  other 
by  the  nose  on  account  of  a  trifle.  .  .  .  We  immediately  recog- 
nized one  another  and  were  glad  to  see  each  other  well  and  alive. 
I  regarded  them  with  delight  and  fed  my  eyes  on  their  forms, 
reviewing  them  from  head  to  foot.  And  now  I  am  giving  a 
description  of  some  of  them  in  this  book."  This  was  written  in 
1884,  when  new  types  with  different  tendencies  and  aspirations 
had  already  appeared  on  the  stage  of  Jewish  history.  Even, 
when  Abramovitz  deals  with  a  subject  of  our  own  age,  as  in  his 
shorter  sketches  written  since  1887,  his  heroes  are,  in  the  main, 
taken  from  those  types  that  belong  to  his  favorite  age  rather 
than  to  ours. 

76 


SHALOM   JACOB   ABRAMOVITZ 

A  writer  with  a  propensity  such  as  this,  with  a  fondness  for  a 
particular  age,  is  in  danger  of  centering  attention  upon  the 
period  at  the  expense  of  character,  is  Hable  to  generaUze  the 
latter  rather  than  to  individualize  it,  to  present  types  illustrating 
the  period  rather  than  individuals  illustrating  themselves.  And 
that  is  precisely  what  happens  to  the  heroes  of  Abramovitz. 
"Here  you  have,  gentlemen,"  he  says  in  one  of  his  stories,  "the 
picture  of  Benjamin  the  sage  and  counsellor,  whose  like  is  rarely 
to  be  met  with  in  Israel  in  our  own  day," — and  this  characteriza- 
tion is  very  telling  as  regards  the  method  of  Abramovitz  in  his 
stories.  Not  that  he  was  incapable  of  admirably  delineating 
individual  character.  The  masterly  drawing  of  Fishke  the 
Lame,  in  the  "Book  of  Schnorrers" — a  masterpiece  of  its  kind — 
conclusively  proves  with  what  power  Abramovitz  could  wield 
the  pen  in  giving  individuality  to  character.  It  was  only  the 
absorption  in  the  period  which  made  him  neglect  personalities. 
And  this  absorption  seems  to  have  been  a  conscious  one;  it  seems 
to  have  been  the  ambition  of  the  author  to  represent  and  per- 
petuate in  story  a  whole  period  complete  in  detail  and  vivid  and 
rounded  in  description.  And  here  is  really  where  the  strength 
of  Abramovitz  lies;  for  he  succeeded  in  fully  entering  into  the 
spirit  of  the  time,  reproducing  it  by  means  of  typified  character 
and  representation  of  manner. 

Abramovitz  is  best  known  by  his  nom-de-plume,  Mendele 
Mocher  Sefarim  (Mendele  the  Book  Seller),  and  a  more  fortunate 
name  he  could  not  have  taken  to  himself.  For  "  Book  Seller  "  is 
not  to  be  understood  in  the  English  but  in  the  Ghetto  sense  of 
the  word.  It  is  a  travelling  book  dealer,  a  person  curious  and 
inquisitive,  a  good  listener  to  stories  and  a  good  narrator;  and 
though  somewhat  more  learned  than  his  fellow  Jew,  he  is  yet  a 
man  of  the  people,  without  the  slightest  haughtiness  or  pride. 
And  the  literary  physiognomy  of  Abramovitz,  with  his  curiosity 
and  inquisitiveness,  his  remarkable  acquaintance  with  the  life 
and  manners  of  the  people,  the  public  psychology  of  the  age,  his 
marvelous  power  of  story  telling,  and  his  racy  colloquial  style, 
completely  answer  to  this  description  of  Mocher  Sefarim.     To 

77 


/ 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

this,  however,  may  be  added  another  important  trait  of  Abramo- 
vitz,  which,  again,  often  goes  to  the  completion  of  the  cast  of 
features  of  a  happy-go-lucky  book  vender, — a  blithe  and  homely 
humor. 

The  humor  of  Abramovitz  is  peculiarly  his  own  and,  at  the 
same  time,  distinctively  Jewish;  yet  the  influence  of  the  great 
Russian  humorist,  Saltykov,  is  clearly  felt  therein.  This  can 
'be  seen  in  different  manifestations,  in  the  democracy  and  sym- 
pathy with  the  common  people,  in  the  tearful  laughter,  and 
in  the  fact  that,  like  the  Russian  humorist,  Abramovitz  generally 
places  his  heroes  in  the  town  Glupsk — in  Russian  it  is  Glupov — 
namely.  Fool's  Town.  It  must  be  remarked,  however,  that  the 
Jewish  humorist  adds  another  place,  a  characteristically  Jewish 
place,  as  the  scene  of  action  for  his  stories:  Kabzansk,  namely, 
Poor-Town.  Here  the  whole  misery  of  his  people  is  both  sym- 
bolized and  described.  Here,  the  universal  legend  of  the  Jewish 
riches  becomes  a  mockery;  young  and  old  are  in  a  constant  state 
of  starvation,  and  the  hunt  for  bread  degenerates,  because  of 
poverty,  into  a  seeking  for  prey.  Here,  moreover,  humility,  en,- 
forced  by  suffering  and  persecution,  sinks  to  degradation  and 
pusilanimity.  Then,  again,  the  drowning  of  the  voice  of  nature, 
the  demands  of  nature,  in  the  voice  of  God,  the  commands  of 
God,  and  the  soothing  of  passion  with  the  words  of  the  Law, — 
all  of  which  prove  that  under  the  outer  crust  of  misery  and 
degradation  the  heart  is  vitally  sound  and  even  capable  of  exalta- 
'  tion  to  poetic  nobility. 

This  misery  and  degradation  and  this  poetry  of  the  Ghetto, 
of  the  real,  Russian  Ghetto,  Abramovitz  pictures  with  so  much 
Anglican  vividness  of  detail,  with  such  pathetic  humor  and 
sympathetic  affection,  that  the  period  stands  out  to  us,  as  it 
undoubtedly  will  stand  out  to  future  generations,  as  clear  and 
distinct  as  society  in  Cranford  in  Gaskell's  novel  of  that  name. 
These  are  the  qualities  to  be  sought  in  the  stories  of  Abramovitz, 
and  these,  plus  a  penetrating  humoristic-satiric  vein  and  a 
naturally  colloquial  style,  are  what  assign  him  a  foremost  place 
in  Hebrew  literature. 

78 


SHALOM   JACOB  ABRAMOVITZ 

The  works  of  Abramovitz  may  be  roughly  divided  into  two 
parts:  stories  taken  directly  from  life  and  allegorical  or  symr«, 
bolical  narratives.  In  the  stories  of  the  first  class,  he  is  at  his 
Hbest  in  the  "Book  of  Schnorrers."  It  is  the  simple  story 
of  a  beggar,  Fishke  the  Lame,  who  was  married  to  a  blind  beggar 
woman  that  became  faithless  to  him,  preferring  the  company 
of  another,  stronger  than  he  and  the  leader  of  the  whole  strag- 
gling band  of  beggars.  Fishke,  disgusted  with  his  wife,  falls  in 
love  with  a  hunch-backed,  black  eyed  maiden,  as  soulful  as 
himself,  who  lives  in  the  same  company.  But  here,  too,  the 
"Red  One,"  the  lustful  leader,  is  in  the  way,  teasing  and  torturing 
them,  and,  finally,  ejecting  Fishke  altogether  from  the  band. 

The  "Book  of  Schnorrers"  is  the  masterpiece  of  Abramovitz. 
The  artistic  temperament,  pure  and  simple,  is  here  exhibited. 
There  is  no  conscious  or  unconscious  tendency  to  preach,  as 
there  is  in  most  of  his  other  works,  and,  in  general,  it  is  the 
most  objective  of  his  writings.  We,  therefore,  find  the  author 
at  his  best  in  this  story.  The  character  of  Fishke  stands  out 
boldly  and  in  all  its  simplicity,  indelibly  impressing  itself  upon 
the  recollection  of  the  reader.  A  most  delightful  humor  is 
blended  with  a  pathos  that  is  just  sufficient  to  rouse  sympathy 
for  the  hero.  And  there  is  a  wonderful  power  of  narration, 
which  grips  one's  interest  and  holds  it  from  beginning  to  end. 
Finally,  there  is  in  this  story  a  wealth  of  scenic  description  and 
an  appreciation  of  nature,  which  alone  would  suffice  to  set 
Abramovitz  above  the  Haskalah  novelist,  if  nothing  else  would, 
and  of  which  one  may  be  justified  in  citing  the  following  examples : 

"The  sky  is  all  blue,  marred  here  and  there  by  a  slight  cloud. 
The  sun  burns  hot;  not  a  breeze  blows,  not  a  stir  of  breath. 
Neither  the  corn  nor  the  trees  are  moving;  they  stand  silent  and 
patient.  A  few  cows  lie  in  the  field  with  necks  outstretched, 
shaking  their  ears,  while  some  impatiently  paw  on  the  ground 
or  strike  it  with  their  horns.  One  ox,  with  raised  tail,  is  racing 
to  and  fro;  he  suddenly  stops,  bends  down  his  forehead,  breathing 
heavily  and  snorting,  lowing  and  kicking  up  his  hoofs,  while  the 
steam  rises  from  his  nostrils.     Beside  an  old  willow,  crooked  and 

79 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

cloven  by  lightning,  a  few  horses  are  standing  together,  shadowing 
each  other  with  their  necks,  and  wagging  their  tails  to  brush  off 
the  flies  and  mosquitoes.  On  the  top  of  the  tree,  a  crow,  wrapped 
up  in  a  small  praying  shawl  of  mixed  white  and  blue  is  swinging 
himself  on  a  twig.  Bowing  his  head  in  prayer  and  prostrating 
himself,  faintly  hopping,  stretching  out  his  neck,  straightening 
his  head,  and,  then,  dozing  off  with  open  eyes.  Silence  reigns 
over  the  whole  road;  not  a  leaf  is  stirring,  not  a  flap  of  a  bird's 
wing  is  heard.  Only  the  flies  and  mosquitoes,  nimble  folk,  are 
keeping  holiday  in  the  atmosphere,  flitting  here  and  there,  buz- 
zing some  secret  into  the  ear  and  then  disappearing." 

Or  the  return  from  a  fair : 

"Farmers'  wagons  and  carts  are  coming  and  going,  some  with 
nothing  but  a  bit  of  straw  spread  on  the  bottom,  and  some  laden 
with  utensils  and  all  sorts  of  saleable  articles.     On  one  wagon 
lies  a  pig  wholly  hidden  in  a  sack,  poking  out  only  the  tip  of  his 
nostril  into  the  air  and  uttering  grunts  that  reverberate  in  the 
distance  and  jar  upon  the  ear.     To  the  back  of  next  wagon, 
laden  with  earthenware,  is  fastened  a  dapple  cow  with  only  one 
horn,  straining  with  all  her  strength  to  break  away  and  run  home 
to  see  how  her  sisters  fare  in  the  stall.     Two  patient  oxen  broad- 
hipped  and  big-bellied,  accustomed  to  work  and  quietly  bear  the 
yoke,  are  chewing  the  cud  with  earnestness  and  great  intentness. 
At  the  same  time,  the  goat  of  the  innkeeper,  jumps,  with  wicked 
design,  on  to  the  crowded  wagon,  steals  up  to  a  bag  full  of  some- 
thing, puts  her  head  into  it,  and,  getting  a  mouthful  of  eatables, 
immediately  withdraws  it,  sneezing  and  jerking  her  tail,  chewing 
rapidly,  moving  her  jaws  and  beard  at  the  rate  of  sixty  moves  a 
minute.     Meanwhile,  her  eyes  wander  on  all  sides,  lest  some 
danger  be  at  hand.     A  village  cur,  thin  and  emaciated,  lame  in 
one  leg  and  with  a  bushy  tangle  at  the  end  of  his  tail,  who  has 
been  dismissed  from  service  and  is  now  supporting  himself  at 
the  dunghill  of  the  community,  comes  limping,  raising  his  eyes 
to  the  wagon  and  looking  at  it  respectfully  from  a  distance. 
Then  he  grows  more  daring,  comes  nearer,  and  sniffs  out  from 
somewhere  a  dry  bone,  which  no  longer  has  even  the  tiniest 

80 


SHALOM   JACOB  ABRAMOVITZ 

amount  of  humidity,  limps  away  hastily  with  his  treasure  in 
his  mouth,  stretches  out  on  the  ground  and  chews  at  the  bone, 
holding  his  head  sideways  on  his  paws.  A  horse  fastened  to  the 
fence,  standing  idle  and  drowsy,  with  open  eyes  and  drooping 
underlip,  suddenly  takes  it  into  his  head  to  move  across  towards  a 
pair  of  oxen,  who  stand  opposite  him,  eating  hay  out  of  one  sack, 
in  order  to  share  their  supper.  But,  on  his  way  he  is  careless 
enough  to  entangle  his  pole  in  the  wheel  of  the  other  wagon, 
almost  overturning  it.  Whereupon,  the  horse  of  the  other  wagon 
gets  frightened  and,  jumping  out  of  its  harness,  kicks  the  neigh- 
boring horse,  who,  on  his  part,  feels  insulted  and  rears  neighing 
aloud.  The  goat,  then,  grows  excited  and  leaps  down  upon  the 
cur  squeezing  his  tail;  thereupon  the  cur  jumps  up  and  runs  away 
limping  and  howling." 

Next  in  importance  of  this  class  of  stories  are:  "Homunculus" 
and  "In  the  Valley  of  Weeping."  The  art  of  the  former  rests 
mainly  upon  the  skilful  linking  together  of  the  chain  and  se- 
quence of  events,  through  which  the  hero  passes  before  coming 
to  the  position  of  "little  man"  in  the  community, — whereas 
"In  the  Valley  of  Weeping"  distinguishes  itself  with  its  broad 
latitude  and  with  its  kaleidoscopic  view  of  the  manners  of  the 
period.  Neither  of  these  stories,  however,  attained  the  artistic 
perfection  of  the  "Book  of  Schnorrers."  There  is  hardly  any 
character  drawing  in  either:  the  hero  of  "Homunculus"  is  a  type 
rather  than  an  individual,  whereas  in  "  In  the  Valley,"  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  minor  personages  that  are  individualized,  in 
the  manner  of  Dickens,  by  ludicrous  external  traits  rather  than 
by  psychologic  attributes,  the  characters  are  generally  pale  and 
anaemic.  Moreover,  if  in  the  other  stories  of  Abramovitz  there 
is  very  little  plot  commensurate  with  their  length,  in  "In  the 
Valley,"  the  attempt  at  such  is  brought  to  a  speedy  and  abrupt 
ending.  Yet,  both  stories  mentioned  abound  in  striking  situa- 
tions and  in  unexcelled  descriptions  of  Ghetto  life  and  manners. 
Moreover,  there  is  in  them,  at  least,  one  interesting  cord  that 
strikes  a  novel  note  in  Hebrew  literature,  namely,  insight  into 
the  life  and  spirit  of  children.  Attempts  at  representing  the 
7  81 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

latter  in  story  had  been  made  even  before  Abramovitz.  But 
what  were  those  children?  Merely  men  and  women  in  short 
clothes.  Abramovitz  was  the  first  to  give  a  picture  of  the  child 
consistent  with  its  nature.  And  he  did  it  with  gusto,  with  a 
sort  of  thrilling  pleasure.  He  loves  not  only  to  delineate  its 
character  but  also  to  trace  its  growth  and  development  into 
manhood.  Three  stories  bear  witness  to  this  fondness  for 
children:  "Homunculus,"  "In  the  Valley,"  and  "In  Those 
Days," — in  all  of  which  the  children  described  are  real,  children 
of  flesh  and  blood.  Hershele  in  "The  Valley  of  Weeping," 
probably  in  imitation  of  a  quack,  plays  the  physician,  operates 
upon  the  foot  of  his  little  friend  with  a  rusty  nail,  and  then  cures 
it  with  a  concoction  of  his  own  make,  not  forgetting  salt  as  an 
important  ingredient  of  the  medicine.  Shlomele,  in  "In  Those 
Days,"  lives  through  in  imagination  all  the  stories  and  legends 
found  in  the  Bible  or  told  him  by  his  teacher.  And  Isaac 
Abrahamze's  fancy  is  so  possessed  with  the  "manikin"  (the 
reflection  in  the  pupil  of  the  eye),  that  he  strikes  his  mother  a 
hard  blow  in  the  head,  in  order  that  he  may  see  the  manikin 
jump  out  of  her  eyes. 

Of  the  purely  imaginative  works  of  Abramovitz,  two  may  be 
singled  out:  "The  Mare"  and  "The  Travels  of  Benjamin  III." 
The  former  is  an  allegory  of  the  Jewish  people,  its  life  and 
condition  among  the  nations.  The  mare  is  the  Jew  (in  accord- 
ance with  a  verse  in  Canticles:  "Unto  the  mare  in  Pharaoh's 
chariot  do  I  compare  thee,  my  beloved"),  windbroken,  foot-sore, 
pestered  by  flies  and  gnats,  molested  and  driven  from  place  to 
place  by  the  scum  of  humanity,  and  ridden  upon  by  friend  and 
foe.  This  story  distinguishes  itself  by  a  soaring  flight  of  imagina- 
tion. The  representation  of  the  mare,  half  beast  and  half  en- 
dowed with  human  intelligence,  now  showing  consciousness  as 
regards  its  own  wretched  state  and  now  returning  to  the  con- 
dition of  beastly  insensibility;  and  then  the  episodes  such  as 
the  revel  in  the  air  with  Satan,  though  rather  incoherently 
connected  with  the  main  story, — all  this  marks  "The  Mare"  as 
one  of  the  most  imaginative  works  in  literature.     "The  Travels 

82 


SHALOM  JACOB  ABRAMOVITZ 

of  Benjamin  III"  is  the  story  of  a  Jewish  dreamer,  who  sets  out, 
with  his  companion,  from  his  native  town,  on  a  quest  of  the  lost 
ten  tribes  of  Israel,  who  are  supposed,  by  legend,  to  live  some- 
where beyond  Sambatyon,  a  river  unapproachable;  and,  after 
many  mock-heroic  adventures,  the  hero  and  his  companion  are 
caught  and  sold  into  the  army.  The  story  strongly  reminds 
one  of  "  Don  Quixote,"  by  which  it  was  undoubtedly  influenced. 
Like  the  latter,  it  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  satire  of  an  indi- 
vidual, but  is  rather  a  parody  on  the  condition  of  the  Jewish 
people,  poor,  famishing,  and  miserable,  yet  seeking  the  salvation 
of  the  whole  world  together  with  its  own;  but  suffering,  in  the 
end,  for  the  sins  of  others. 

Finally,  a  word  in  regard  to  the  style  and  literary  influence  of 
Abramovitz.  In  point  of  style,  he  stands  between  the  Maskilim 
and  the  more  modern  writers.  His  form  of  expression  is  too 
exuberant  and  not  precise  enough  for  purposes  of  modern  realism. 
In  his  endeavor  to  make  his  style  as  colloquial  as  possible,  he  in- 
troduced many  Yiddishisms  into  Hebrew  and  made  frequent  use 
of  the  Talmudic  phraseology,  which  is  nearer  in  spirit  to  modern 
Yiddish  than  is  the  Biblical  diction.  Hence,  in  a  measure,  his  style, 
like  that  of  the  Maskilim,  bears  the  eclectic,  Melizah  character, 
yet  it  is  racy  and  spirited,  the  Talmudic  phraseology  serving  as  a 
sort  of  seasoning  for  it.  Its  influence  upon  the  more  modern 
Hebrew  style  was,  therefore,  direct  and  fruitful.  With  this, 
however,  the  influence  of  Abramovitz  is  not  exhausted;  his 
humor,  his  treatment,  his  sympathy  with  the  common  people 
have  also  had  their  wholesome  effect  upon  Hebrew  literature. 
And  if  a  concrete  example  of  this  effect  be  desired,  it  will  be 
found  in  Shalom  Rabinowitz. 

Shalom  Rabinowitz 

The  introductory  remark  made  about  Abramovitz,  as  regards 
his  Hebrew  and  Yiddish  productions,  also  holds  good  in  the 
case  of  Shalom  Rabinowitz,  or,  as  he  is  best  known  by  his  nom- 
de-plume,  Shalom  Aleichem.  Like  Abramovitz,  the  latter  wrote 
most  of  his  works  in  Yiddish  and  later  translated  them  into 

83 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Hebrew,  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  betray  their  Yiddish  original. 
We  are  thus  justified  in  giving  this  author,  too,  a  place  in  Hebrew 
literature. 

In  the  first  works  of  Rabinowitz  we  see  not  only  the  influence 
of  Abramovitz  but  a  direct  imitation  of  his  works.  "Rabchik 
(a  dog),"  for  example,  strongly  reminds  one  of  "The  Mare," 
and  the  same,  at  least,  in  some  measure,  may  be  said  of  "  Methu- 
shelah."  Later,  Rabinowitz  struck  out  in  an  independent  direc- 
tion, only  now  and  then  betraying  the  influence  of  the  older 
humorist,  by  a  simile,  a  passage,  or  a  turn  of  phrase.  There  is, 
however,  a  resemblance  more  essential  than  this  between  the 
two  humorists.  Like  Abramovitz,  Rabinowitz  takes  his  heroes 
from  the  bygone  generation — though  to  a  much  greater  extent — 
and,  like  the  former,  he  does  not  concern  himself  with  the 
psychology  of  his  characters,  but  describes  them,  in  Dickens- 
like manner,  by  a  ludicrous  gesture  or  form  of  expression, — a 
practice  that,  at  times,  degenerates  with  him,  as  with  Dickens, 
into  a  mannerism. 

""T^hese  are,  in  the  main,  the  points  of  resemblance  between  the 
two  Jewish  humorists.  The  points  of  difference  are  just  as  inter- 
esting and  instructive.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  preachment 
or  tendency  in  the  stories  of  Shalom  Aleichem,  as  is  to  be  found 
in  these  of  the  older  writer.  The  former  has  nothing  to  plead 
for  his  heroes.  He  stands  aside,  observes  their  manners,  their 
conversation,  their  mode  of  life,  and  these  he  describes  as  they 
are,  or  as  they  present  themselves  before  his  mind's  eye,  with 
their  faults,  their  squint  and  stammer  humorously  magnified. 
He  seldom  extends  sympathy  to  them.  Abramovitz  laughs 
with  tears  in  his  eyes;  the  laugh  of  Shalom  Aleichem  is  cruel, 
Mephistophelian.  Then,  again,  the  humor  of  the  former  is  that 
of  the  great  writer,  of  a  Dickens  or  a  Thackeray,  and  is  not  the 
principal  aim  of  the  author,  but  serves  merely  as  a  seasoning 
to  the  story,  whereas  the  humor  of  Shalom  Aleichem  is  that  of 
the  professional  humorist,  of  a  Mark  Twain,  which  is  an  aim  in 
itself.  And  these  differences  between  teacher  and  disciple  are 
Slot  due  to  mere  temperament,  but  are  to  be  sought  also  in  the 

84 


SHALOM   JACOB  ABRAMOVITZ 

difference  of  period  during  which  they  lived.  Abramovitz  was 
active  mainly  during  the  time  when  his  heroes  were  a  part  of  the 
social  order.  Hence,  his  sketches  reflect  not  only  the  single 
situation  with  which  he  deals,  but  also  the  whole  life  or,  at  least, 
an  important  phase  of  the  life  of  the  society.  Shalom  Aleichem 
lives  in  an  age  when  the  heroes  he  describes  are  merely  an 
outgrowth  from  a  previous  period,  almost  an  anachronism:  the 
light  that  he  throws  upon  them,  therefore,  gives  the  impression 
of  the  brilliancy  of  the  sun  before  its  setting.  They  can  interest 
us  only  as  a  dying  type  of  individuals  of  a  dead  period.  See  his 
"Kathrielians,"  a  series  of  portraits  that  constitute  a  rounded 
whole,  one  of  Shalom  Aleichem's  best  works.  We  are,  indeed, 
acquainted  with  each  and  every  one  of  them  individually;  we 
know  that  they  have  existed  and  that  they  still  exist.  But 
Kathrilevke  as  a  society,  as  a  social  order,  seems  to  us  unreal, 
as  a  thing  of  the  past.  Or,  take  "Tobias  the  Milkman," — per- 
haps the  masterpiece  of  our  author, — whom  he  almost  succeeded 
in  endowing  with  psychologic  individuality.  Tobias  is  also  a 
personage  whom  we  know  well;  but,  as  one  of  a  bygone  age, 
he  can  hardly  find  himself  in  the  society  of  our  own  time.  It  is 
then,  in  this  absence  of  personal  interest,  in  the  fact  that  Shalom 
Aleichem  lives  outside  of  the  atmosphere  of  his  heroes,  that  we 
may  find,  at  least  in  part,  the  objectivity  of  this  humorist. 

In  short,  the  difference  between  the  humor  of  Abramovitz 
and  that  of  Rabinowitz  may  be  summed  up  as  follows:  that  of 
the  former  approaches  the  French  type,  which  is  a  criticism  of 
life;  that  of  the  latter  comes  near  the  American  type,  in  which 
an  external,  ludicrous  characteristic,  a  manner  of  expression, 
individual  or  racial,  a  popular  saying  or  a  current  story,  is  seized 
upon,  exaggerated  and  carried  to  the  extent  of  mannerism.  Such 
is  the  humor  of  Shalom  Aleichem,  and  therein  lies  his  success  as 
well  as  his  shortcoming. 


\ 


85 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

With  the  writings  of  Shalom  Aleichem  we  have  come  down 
to  our  own  time;  but  this  writer  was  assigned  a  place  in  the 
previous  chapter,  because  of  the  relation  he  bears  to  Abramovitz. 
He  is,  however,  a  unique  figure  in  Hebrew  literature,  and  can  be 
regarded  as  a  rather  loose  link  in  the  chain  of  its  development. 
If  we  desire  to  resume  the  thread  of  evolution,  we  must  go  back 
to  the  end  of  the  eighties.  At  that  time  there  came  upon  the 
scene  a  thinker  of  some  power  and  ability — A.  Ginsburg — who 
exerted  a  marked  influence  upon  the  revival  movement  as  well 
as  upon  Hebrew  literature. 

Ginsburg,  better  known  by  his  nom-de-plume  Ahad  Ha-Am 
(One  of  the  People),  was  an  active  member  of  the  movement  long 
before  1889,  but  it  was  only  in  that  year  that  he  first  made  his 
appearance  before  the  reading  public.  Up  to  that  time  he  was  un- 
willing, as  he  said,  to  take  up  the  pen  and  become  a  public  man. 
But  the  movement  began  to  take  a  form  and  a  direction  unde- 
sirable in  themselves  and  fraught  with  dangers  to  its  future 
development.  The  economic  feature  was  the  most  pronounced 
in  it,  and  its  activity  was  feverish  and  short  sighted.  Purchases 
of  land  in  Palestine  were  made  noisily,  boisterously;  the  slightest 
success,  real  or  imaginary,  in  the  colonies  in  that  country  was 
exaggerated  by  the  newspaper  and  the  public  meeting,  with  the 
good  intention  of  turning  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  Palestine 
and  the  movement.  The  results,  however,  could  not  fail  to  be 
disastrous.  During  the  nine  years,  from  1882  to  1891,  some 
fifty  thousand  Jews  went  to  settle  in  Palestine,  most  of  whom 
were  destitute,  having  broken  with  the  last  means  of  sustenance 
in  their  native  countries.  And  there  is  no  telling  how  many 
thousands  or  tens  of  thousands  more  Jews  would  then  have 
poured  into  that  land,  once  the  flood  of  immigration  had  been 

86 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

turned  thither  in  that  artificial  way;  and  there  is  no  telHng  how 
many  thousands  or  tens  of  thousands  would  have  been  sacrificed 
in  this  manner  in  that  agriculturally  and  industrially  undeveloped 
country,  had  not  the  Porte  put  a  stop  to  it,  by  pulling  in  the 
drawbridge  in  1891,  and  forbidding  the  Jews  to  settle  in  the  land. 

In  the  midst  of  this  feverish  agitation,  which  swept  away  even 
such  cool  thinkers  as  Lilienblum,  Ahad  Ha-Am  was  the  only 
one  in  the  movement  to  retain  his  balance.  In  1889,  when  this 
excitement  was  at  its  zenith,  he  published  a  couple  of  articles 
entitled:  "This  Is  Not  the  Way^"  in  which  he  set  forth  the  evils 
of  Hibbath  Zion  in  the  form  which  it  had  assumed,  at  the  same 
time  pointing  out  the  direction  that  it  should  henceforth  take, 
if  it  was  to  maintain  its  position  as  a  national  movement :  "  Hib- 
bath Zion"  has  hitherto  made  the  mistake  of  overemphasizing 
the  economic  and,  in  a  manner,  the  political  significance  of  the 
rehabilitation  of  Palestine  by  the  Jews.  The  truth  is,  that  this 
country,  small  in  area  and  industrially  undeveloped,  cannot 
solve  either  of  these  Jewish  problems.  It  can  neither  serve  as  a 
centripetal  force  to  attract  the  eddies  of  wanderers  driven  from 
their  homes  by  starvation ;  nor  can  it  be  a  refuge  for  the  millions 
of  Jews  persecuted  in  their  present  native  lands.  Any  other 
center  of  immigration,  say  America,  may  serve  this  purpose 
infinitely  better  than  Palestine.  In  short,  this  country  cannot 
and  will  not  solve  the  problem  of  the  Jews,  but  that  of  Judaism — 
a  dictum  that  has  since  been  often  quoted  in  literature  and  on 
the  platform.  Palestine  is  to  become  a  center  merely  for  Jewish 
culture,  which  has  been  steadily  degenerating  during  all  the 
years  of  the  dispersion.  And  the  endeavors  of  Hibbath  Zion 
should  be  bent  solely  towards  this  aim. 

This  is  the  gist  of  the  couple  of  articles  published  by  Ahad 
Ha-Am  in  1889;  and  it  was  a  veritable  bomb  thrown  into  the 
camp  of  the  adherents  of  the  cause.  It  roused  a  storm  of  oppo- 
sition on  the  part  of  the  journalists  and  active  "Lovers  of  Zion," 
who  saw  their  idea  of  Palestine  as  a  panacea  for  all  Jewish  ills 
overthrown  by  this  novel  opinion.  Yet  this  was  not  the  last 
word  of  Ahad  Ha-Am  to  rouse  resentment.     Every  article  that 

87 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

he  subsequently  published  became  an  event  to  stir  up  commotion. 
Not  that  he  was  sensational  or  that  he  tried  in  any  other  way 
to  draw  the  attention  of  the  public  to  himself.  Very  few  authors 
in  any  literature  have  been  so  free  from  the  vice  of  courting 
publicity  as  he.  It  was  the  force  of  his  argument,  the  directness 
of  his  manner,  the  vigor  and  lucidity  of  his  style,  that  brought 
his  ideas  home  alike  to  friend  and  foe,  and  that  finally  exalted 
him  to  the  height  of  spiritual  leader  of  Hibbath  Zion,  and  made 
him  a  potent  factor  in  Hebrew  literature. 

Ahad  Ha-Am  later  developed,  in  a  series  of  essays,  a  rounded 
and  consistent  theory  of  Zionism  as  well  as  of  Judaism  as  a 
whole.  The  basis  of  his  theory  is  purely  cultural-nationalistic: 
The  Jews  have  never  been  a  mere  religious  sect,  as  is  maintained 
by  some,  but  a  national  entity,  whether  they  lived  in  their  own 
land  or  in  the  diaspora.  In  their  dispersion,  they  entered  the 
various  countries  as  a  distinct  nationality  and  have  always  lived 
there  as  such.  Their  national  spirit,  the  moral  vigor,  which  was 
moulded  in  their  own  country  and  was  so  creative  in  the  prophets, 
was  a  great  preservative  power  to  maintain  the  national  existence 
of  the  Jews  even  after  they  had  lost  their  political  independence. 
In  so  far  Ahad  Ha-Am  is  in  accord  with  his  predecessors,  by  whom 
he  was  undoubtedly  influenced:  S.  D.  Luzzatto  and  Smolenskin, 
who  likewise  lay  emphasis  upon  the  theory  that  Jewish  nation- 
alism has  been  a  fact  prevalent  throughout  Jewish  history,  and 
who,  together  with  another  thinker  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
N.  Krochmal,  offer  a  spiritual  interpretation  of  Jewish  history. 
But  he  made  a  further  contribution  to  the  theory  of  Jewish 
nationalism.  Luzzatto,  himself  deeply  religious,  and  Smolen- 
skin, theoretically  religious,  regarded  Jewish  faith  as  indis-^ 
solubly  connected  with  Jewish  nationality;  Ahad  Ha-Am  draws 
a  sharp  and  distinguishing  line  between  the  two.  It  is  true,  he 
maintains,  that  the  religion  of  Israel  is  a  product  of  the  national 
genius;  but  this  merely  means  that  the  former  is  dependent  upon 
the  latter,  not  vice  versa.  Even  the  moral  spirit  of  the  Jewish 
people,  which  seems  at  first  sight  to  be  so  inseparably  welded 
together  with  religion,  has  in  reality  been  an  independent  cre- 

88 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

ative  power,  manifesting  itself  in  religious  forms  only  during  the 
time  when  religion  dominated  national  life.  But,  in  our  own 
time,  national  consciousness,  which  has  steadily  been  growing 
among  the  Jewish  people,  can  and  will  take  the  place  of  religion 
as  the  creator  of  national  values.  This  is  the  contribution  that 
Ahad  Ha-Am  made  to  the  theory  of  Jewish  nationalism.  He 
based  it  purely  upon  sentiment,  upon  consciousness,  freeing  it, 
Irom  dogma  and  thus  flinging  its  doors  open  for  the  free-thinkey 
and  atheist  and  even  for  one  still  farther  removed  from  Judaism, 
And  this  theory  presented  with  such  trenchant  logic,  and  in 
phrases  and  expression  as  striking  and  pregnant  as  those  of 
Matthew  Arnold,  could  not  but  act  as  a  stimulant  to  Hebrew 
thought.  There  is  no  exaggeration  in  saying  that  Ahad  Ha-Am 
dominated  Hebrew  literature  in  the  decade  between  1890  and 
1900. 

The  year  1891  may  be  regarded  as  a  landmark  in  modern 
Hebrew  literature.  In  that  year,  the  latter  began  to  assume  an 
entirely  European  character.  Shalkowitz,  known  by  the  pseu- 
donym Ben-Avigdor,  commenced  to  issue  a  series  of  stories, 
sketches,  and  poems,  under  the  name  of  "Sifre  Agorah"  (Penny 
Series),  to  which  there  contributed,  besides  the  editor  himself, 
some  of  the  most  talented  Hebrew  writers.  The  intrinsic  value 
of  this  series  is  by  no  means  great.  Not  one  of  the  contributions 
rises  above  mediocrity,  and  in  the  realistic  sketches  of  the  editor 
himself  there  is  too  much  conventionality  and  too  minute  and 
oppressive  detail.  Yet  its  success  was  immediate  and  decisive. 
The  manner  of  publication  was  in  itself  something  novel  in 
Hebrew;  whereas  the  realism  of  the  series  was  hailed  as  a  new 
gospel,  and  it  contributed  its  mite  towards  the  establishment 
of  realism  in  the  literature  as  a  whole.  Its  fame,  moreover, 
went  even  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Hebrew;  for  some  of  the 
sketches  of  this  series  were  translated  into  other  languages,  both 
as  illustrative  of  modern  tendencies  in  Hebrew  literature  and  as 
representative  pictures  of  Jewish  life.  Furthermore,  this  publi- 
cation later  developed  and  branched  off  into  two  important 
publishing  companies,  "Ahiasaf"  and  "Tushiah,  "which  have 

89 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

done  good  work  towards  the  uplifting  and  aggrandizing  of  Hebrew 
literature  in  every  respect.  And  that  all  this  was  done  under 
the  direct  influence  of  Ahad  Ha-Am  may  well  be  attested  by  the 
fact  that  Ben-Avigdor  dedicated  to  him  one  of  his  sketches, 
"Moses,"  drawing  a  comparison  between  Ahad  Ha-Am  and  the 
Biblical  leader. 

The  writer  who  introduced  the  ideas  of  Ahad  Ha-Am  into 
jfiction  was,  however,  Mordecai  Z.  Feierberg.  The  heritage  that 
he  bequeathed  Hebrew  literature  is  rather  small;  it  consists  of  a 
longer  story  and  a  few  smaller  sketches,  which  were  the  result  of 
three  years  of  literary  activity,  for  he  died  very  early,  at  the 
age  of  twenty  five.  But  in  these  few  productions  is  revealed  a 
talent  of  considerable  power,  a  personal  note  of  yearning  towards 
the  great  and  the  noble,  a  soul  quivering  with  emotion  and 
idealism. 

Feierberg  nourishes  his  offspring,  pelican-like,  with  his  own 
life's  blood.  There  is  an  unrelieved  subjectivity  in  his  writings, 
which  read  somewhat  like  an  autobiography.  Here  is  the 
easily  impressed,  gentle  child  of  the  Ghetto,  with  his  plastic  mind, 
who  is  frightened  into  bad  dreams  by  Jewish  legend,  but  who  is 
cured  by  the  magic  power  of  an  amulet  ("The  Amulet").  Here 
is  his  little  world,  full  of  misery  in  the  Heder  and  at  home  ("  In 
the  Dark  of  Night"):  and  there  again  is  the  flutter  of  the  emo- 
tions of  the  child  poet  at  the  knowledge  that  his  beloved  calf 
is  to  be  killed  before  her  eight  days'  grace  are  over,  and  who 
staunchly  believes  in  supernatural  intervention  ("The  Calf"). 
And  there,  again,  the  same  "Hafni  the  Dreamer"  is  growing 
accustomed  to  "loving  the  night  and  the  shadows,"  because 
then  he  can  test  opinions  and  theories  that  run  perhaps  cross- 
grained  to  those  of  his  previous  studies,  but  that  fill  him  at 
the  same  time  with  inextinguishable  hunger  after  light  and 
life  ("Shadows").  Finally,  observe  the  passionate,  personal 
"Whither,"  which,  together  with  "In  the  Dark  of  Night," 
secured  Feierberg  his  place  in  Hebrew  literature. 

"In  the  Dark  of  Night"  is  based  upon  the  legend  of  a  Jewish 
boy  who  was  taken  by  force  in  his  infancy  to  the  house  of  a 

90 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

Polish  nobleman  and  brought  up  there  in  ignorance  of  his  origin; 
but,  coming  to  the  age  of  reason,  he  is  urged  by  his  dead  father 
to  return  to  the  fold, — and  the  boy  acts  accordingly.  With 
Feierberg,  however,  this  story  assumes  a  symbolic  character, 
alluding  to  the  story  of  the  last  few  decades  of  external  influ- 
ences and  internal  struggle  in  Jewry,  and  with  the  issue  still  in 
the  balance.  Here  is  the  Ghetto  child,  gifted  and  studious, 
but  allured,  forcibly  drawn,  by  the  richer  and  more  varied  life 
without;  however,  at  last  awakening  to  self-consciousness,  he 
returns  to  his  own  people.  But  this  return  can  after  all  not  be 
complete.  He  has  tasted  too  much  of  the  light  without  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  stifling  atmosphere  within.  The  contest 
between  these  sentiments  is  great  and  tragic;  but  the  victory 
seems  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  inner  self,  of  the  Jewish  national 
self -consciousness . 

**  Whither"  is.  in  a  measure,  supplementary  to  "In  the  Dark"; 
it  answers  the  question  which  the  latter  leaves  unanswered:  the 
complete  harmony  between  the  Jew  in  the  man  and  the  man 
in  the  Jew  is  possible  only  in  one  way,  in  the  building  up  of  a 
perfect  Jewish  center  in  the  ancestral  land.  The  hero  of  this 
story  is  really  no  new  figure  in  Hebrew  literature.  He  is  a  herit- 
age of  the  Haskalah  novel.  His  history  is  that  of  the  heroes  of 
the  latter;  for,  like  them,  Nahman  was  brought  up  upon  the 
Talmud,  and,  like  them,  he  revolts,  after  having  come  in  contact 
with  a  broader  knowledge  and  culture,  against  its  autocratic 
hold  of  Jewish  life  and  mind.  But  there  is  something  in  the 
make-up  of  the  hero  of  "Whither"  that  stamps  him  as  an 
original  creation,  and,  at  the  same  time,  as  a  child  of  the  transi- 
tion period  in  the  history  of  European  Jewry.  In  the  first  place, 
his  revolt  is  deeper  and  more  comprehensive  than  that  of  the 
Haskalah  heroes.  It  goes  beyond  the  religion  of  his  people; 
the  whole  mode  of  Jewish  life  is  unbearable  to  him.  He  could, 
therefore,  not  be  satisfied  with  a  few  reforms  in  the  Law,  but 
would  seek  an  entirely  new  modus  for  his  people.  Secondly, 
there  is  in  this  story  a  high  pitch  of  passion  and  a  psychologic 
analysis  entirely  foreign  to  the  Haskalah  literature.     And,  in 

91 


\ 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW   LITERATURE 

order  to  complete  the  comparison  or  the  contrast  between 
"Whither"  and  the  Haskalah  novel,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  former  is  also  a  problem  story,  it  is 
yet  remarkably  free  from  the  bane  of  tendency.  The  problem 
with  which  Feierberg  deals  and  the  solution  that  he  gives  to  it — 
a  solution  given  in  the  spirit  of  Ahad  Ha-Am's  theory — are  not 
simply  a  system  of  thought,  but  are  grown  together  with  his 
whole  being.  Hence,  the  impression  that  "Wliither"  makes  is 
that  of  a  palpable  reality,  the  psychologic  struggle  of  its  hero 
being  not  the  conflict  of  abstract  ideas,  but  the  flutter  of  a  living 
soul  in  constant  state  of  agitation. 

We  have  seen  that  the  psychologic  element  is  prevalent  in 
Feierberg's  sketches.  This  feature  marks  him  as  a  representative 
of  the  more  modern  spirit  in  Hebrew  literature.  For  it  is  with 
the  rise  of  Jewish  national  consciousness  that  the  real  emanci- 
pation of  the  individual  in  fiction  began.  In  the  Haskalah 
period,  with  all  its  conflict  for  the  freedom  of  the  individual,  it 
was,  after  all,  the  spirit,  the  moral,  the  sentiment  of  a  class  that 
permeated  the  Hebrew.  In  Smolenskin,  the  Maskil  of  his  time, 
though  there  was  some  character  drawing,  it  was  still  done  off- 
handedly, unconsciously,  imperfectly.  Even  with  Abramovitz, 
who  was,  in  spirit,  still  farther  removed  from  that  period,  char- 
acters presented  types  rather  than  individuals.  It  is  only  with 
the  revival  that  the  latter  received  their  full  recognition. 

Another  important  feature  of  contemporary  Hebrew  literature 
is  its  favorable  attitude  towards  Hasidism.  This  is  not  due 
merely  to  religious  tolerance,  which  has  become  a  matter  of  course 
in  contemporary  Jewish  life;  but  has  a  deeper  literary  signifi- 
cance. In  the  first  place,  Hasidism  is  more  subjective  than  its 
rival  creed,  "Mithnagdism;"  its  saints  have  displayed  more 
individuality  and  its  adherents  more  life  and  character.  The 
modern  writer  of  the  story  could,  therefore,  find  a  richer  harvest 
of  material  in  Hasidism  than  elsewhere.  Then,  again,  the 
symbolistic  movement,  which  has  been  infiltrated  into  contem- 
porary Hebrew  literature,  could  also  find  more  scope  in  Hasidism, 
which  has  a  Kabbalistic  undercurrent. 

92 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

One  of  the  most  representative  of  this  individualistic  and 
symbolistic  spirit,  a  writer  whose  fame  went  beyond  the  limits 
of  Hebrew  literature,  is  I.  L.  Peretz.  This  author,  like  Abramo- 
vitz  and  Shalom  Aleichem,  has  written  most  of  his  works  in 
Yiddish,  translating  them  later  into  Hebrew,  and  like  them  he 
generally  takes  his  themes  and  characters  from  the  life  of  a 
bygone  age,  seldom  attempting  to  portray  a  modern  man  or 
describe  a  modern  situation.  But  there  is  a  vast  difference 
between  him  and  the  other  two  writers.  In  the  first  place, 
they  are  primarily  humorists,  which  he  is  not.  Their  humor 
flows  easily,  unrestrainedly.  If  they  exaggerate  and  caricaturize, 
it  is  the  exaggeration  and  the  caricature  of  the  humorist,  of  the 
Micawber  and  the  Pickwickian  type.  Peretz  can  not  create  a 
humorous  character  or  situation;  his  humor,  whenever  he 
employs  any,  is  forced,  far-fetched.  Witness,  for  example, 
"The  Heritors  of  Pharaoh,"  "Venus  and  Shulamith,"  or  "My 
Uncle  Shachna  and  My  Aunt  Yahna," — all  of  which  are  intended 
for  humorous  sketches.  What  do  they  provoke?  Surely,  not 
a  hearty  laugh,  but  a  doubtful  smile.  A  more  fundamental 
difference,  however,  between  the  two  humorists  and  Peretz  is, 
that  the  former  are  writers  of  manner  not  of  personality,  whereas  . 
the  latter  is  much  more  a  delineator  of  character,  of  psychologic 
states  of  mind,  than  of  manners.  Take  his  "Pictures  of  Travel" 
— in  the  provincial  towns  of  Russia.  How  much  a  Heine,  an 
Abramovitz,  a  Shalom  Aleichem  could  have  made  of  them !  With 
Peretz,  however,  they  appear  tame  and  sober,  and,  in  places, 
lifeless.  His  psychologic  studies,  on  the  other  hand,  particularly 
in  some  pathologic  phases,  bespeak  the  great  master.  The 
hero  of  "A  Night  of  Terror"  is  torn  between  two  conflicting 
sentiments.  He  has  inherited  both  the  gentleness,  the  yielding 
weakness  of  his  mother  and  the  business  ferocity  of  his  father. 
And  these  traits,  antagonistic  to  each  other,  come  to  a  real  clash 
after  his  marriage,  when  the  love  of  gain  and  his  affection  for 
his  gentle,  pleading  wife,  herself  the  type  of  his  mother,  stand  in 
the  way  of  each  other  and  make  him  hesitate  as  to  what  course 
to  take, — an  indecision  that  finally  kills  his  beloved  wife.     The 

m 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

hero  of  "The  Charitable  Man"  makes  his  escape  from  his  native 
town,  the  poor  of  which  know  him  too  well,  not  because  he 
begrudges  them  the  few  rubles  he  spends  on  them,  but  because 
he  loathes  their  beggarly  manner  of  approaching  him  for  an 
alms.  In  "Yosele  Yeshibah  Bahur,"  the  unsatisfied  sexual 
desire  of  the  hero  leads  him  to  suicide;  and  in  "His  Defense"  a 
father,  who  killed  his  daughter  because  she  had  gone  astray, 
pleads  not  guilty,  maintaining  that  he  did  not  slay  his  daughter, 
who  was  innocent  and  still  alive,  but  her  shadow,  her  bad  sem- 
blance. Finally,  witness  the  masterly  sketch  "Who  Am  I?", — 
the  tangled  and  confused  thoughts  of  a  half  madman.  Read 
all  this,  and  you  will  see  with  what  force  and  truth  Peretz  is 
capable  of  depicting  important  psychological  moments. 

From  the  sketches  cited  above,  one  can  see  that  Peretz  has  a 
preference  for  the  abnormal,  whether  as  a  psychologic  entity  or 
as  a  specific  mood.  These  abnormalities  he  follows  to  the  inner- 
most recesses  of  the  soul,  and  in  that  camera  obscura  he  lays 
bare  before  us  the  minutiae  of  its  struggles  and  agitations.  For, 
with  Peretz,  the  human  drama,  the  play  of  emotions,  is  but 
seldom  acted  without;  it  is  generally  played  within.  His  psy- 
chologic sketches  are  not  stories  in  the  real  sense  of  the  word, 
but  studies;  and  the  more  the  subject  is  out  of  the  ordinary,  the 
worthier  it  is  of  study.  As  such  he  also  takes  the  life  of  the 
Hasidim.  In  the  stories  of  that  life  there  is  no  apotheosis  of 
Hasidism,  as  you  may  find  in  the  stories  of  other  modern  Hebrew 
writers.  In  Peretz  there  is  to  be  found  an  undercurrent  of 
irony,  which  is  at  times  displeasing  and  out  of  accord  with  the 
subject.  And  the  reason  is  apparent.  Peretz  is  in  reality  of 
aristocratic  inclinations;  the  democracy  shown  in  his  works  is 
not  inherent  in  him, — it  is  strained.  He  always  takes  his  stand 
on  an  elevation,  from  which  he  looks  down  upon  his  heroes.  He 
can,  therefore,  not  regard  them  without  some  prejudice,  such 
as  comes  from  a  natural  haughtiness  and  artificial  condescension. 

The  defects  found  in  the  Hasidaic  stories  of  Peretz  stand  out 
more  glaringly  in  his  "Folk  Stories,"  a  series  of  popular  tales  and 
legends  of  Jewish  saints.     In  these  stories,  the  popular  style  is 

94 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

forced,  the  simplicity  of  narration  artificial,  and  one  can  almost 
discover  a  knowing  squint  in  them.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however, 
Peretz  is  at  his  best  in  these  "  Folk  Stories."  His  imagination  is 
here  given  full  play  and  almost  always  kept  at  a  soaring  height. 
By  reason  of  this,  as  well  as  by  a  certain  charm  of  narration,  the 
stories  succeed  in  transporting  us  into  the  world  of  legend. 

JuDAH  Steinberg  (1863-1908) 

In  the  works  of  Peretz,  as  we  have  seen,  the  triumph  of  the 
individual  is  not  yet  complete.  Peretz  is  a  master  in  the  deline- 
ation of  the  complicated,  the  abnormal ;  he  hardly  ever  attempts 
to  portray  a  normal  character,  a  complete  personality.  The 
individual  in  Hebrew  fiction  has  first  found  complete  and  varied 
representation  in  the  writings  of  Judah  Steinberg.  This  author 
began  to  write  late  in  life  and  died  after  a  very  short  period  of 
literary  activity;  and  yet  he  bequeathed  to  Hebrew  literature  a 
heritage  considerable  in  bulk  as  well  as  in  quality.  His  stories 
and  sketches  are  marked  by  a  grasp  and  compass  of  individuality 
and  by  a  variety  of  psychological  study  surpassing  those  of  any 
other  Hebrew  writer.  Not  that  his  works  are  always  above 
mediocrity.  It  was  inevitable  in  a  writer  whose  output  was 
intensive  and  uninterrupted  to  produce,  at  times,  quantity  at 
the  expense  of  quality.  But  even  his  weaker  productions  give 
the  impression  not  of  a  lack  of  talent,  but  merely  of  an  absence 
of  finish  due  to  overhastiness  in  workmanship;  for  even  they, 
to  say  the  least,  introduce  a  psychologic  problem  or  present  an 
outline,  a  skeleton  of  individual  character. 

Steinberg  is  one  of  the  sincerest,  most  direct,  and  most  penetrat- 
ing of  short  story  writers.  He  neither  seeks  eft'ect  nor  mystery; 
but  paints  life  as  it  is,  and  paints  it  truly,  sincerely.  Yet  there 
is  no  superficiality  in  his  presentation  of  life  and  the  individual. 
In  the  stories  of  Steinberg,  as  in  those  of  Henry  James,  we  find 
the  multifarious  nuances  of  character  sketched  with  remarkable 
truth  and  delicacy.  Witness,  for  example,  his  longer  story 
"Father  and  Son,"  and  you  will  see  with  what  fineness  of  touch 
he  lays  bare  every  secret  fold  of  the  human  heart.     Every 

95 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

psychologic  turn  takes  us  by  surprise,  seems  almost  a  mood  rather 
than  a  state  of  mind  or  sentiment;  and  yet  it  is  convincingly 
true,  as  true  as  in  the  stories  of  James.  Or,  again,  take  the  small 
story  "Mordecai  Kizler."  This  also  is  given  rather  a  surprising 
turn  at  the  end,  but  a  turn  entirely  original  in  its  conception. 
In  this  story,  Steinberg  describes  a  rich  merchant  of  forceful  and 
tyrannical  character,  who,  half  from  inclination,  half  at  the 
bidding  of  his  Hasidaic  saint,  overwhelms  his  employees  with 
gifts,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  at  the  same  time,  however, 
robbing  them  of  all  initiative  and  independence  of  mind.  But 
the  time  comes  when  this  strong  will  must  bend  before  one  still 
more  powerful.  The  merchant  gets  a  new  employee,  who  refuses, 
"on  principle,"  to  take  any  gift  from  his  master  and  thereby  sur- 
render his  individuality.  Kizler  cannot  rid  himself  of  this 
servant,  as  he  stands  in  need  of  the  latter,  more  than  the  latter 
of  him.  Under  these  circumstances,  one  might  expect  the  con- 
ventional climax:  a  clash  of  wills,  perhaps  some  sort  of  tragedy. 
But  Steinberg  does  nothing  of  the  kind.  With  artistic  skill,  he 
tones  down  these  two  strong  wills,  when  brought  together,  to  a 
conflict  with  themselves  rather  than  with  each  other.  The 
business  of  the  proud  merchant,  Mordecai  Kizler,  has  of  late 
been  going  somewhat  awry,  and,  in  addition,  his  daughter  is 
dangerously  ill.  Superstitious  as  he  is,  he  imagines  that  all  this 
has  happened  as  a  punishment  because  he  has  not  completely 
carried  out  the  bidding  of  his  saint,  to  be  generous  towards  his 
employees,  as  there  is  still  one  to  whom  he  has  not  been  able  to 
extend  his  liberality.  He,  therefore,  decides  that  on  the  next 
holiday  he  will  insist  upon  Gisnet,  his  employee,  accepting  a 
present  from  him.  "If  I  cannot  compel  him,  I  shall  try  to  ask 
him,  to  implore  him  .  .  .  After  all  he  is  not  a  brute."  And  the 
story  winds  up  with  the  following  dramatic  scene : 

"And  he  stands  bowed  down  before  Gisnet,  like  a  person  begging 
for  his  life. 

— Take  it!  What  will  you  lose  by  it?  It  is  of  great  importance! 
I  can  not  reveal  the  matter  to  you.  You  would  not  believe  it.  Please 
accept! 

96 


REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  IN  ITS  NATIONAL  SIGNIFICANCE 

Gisnet  looks  in  confusion  at  his  imploring  master.  He  can  neither 
yield  nor  refuse: 

— I  cannot,  sir,  it's  against  my  principles. 

— Please  do  accept! 

— But  my  principles! 

— It's  a  question  of  life  and  death! 

— Is  it  so  important  that  you  would  have  me  act  against  my  prin- 
ciples? 

— Please  accept! 

— But  my  principles! 

Both  suddenly  became  aware  of  an  imploring  gentleness  in  each 
other's  voice,  a  gentleness  unusual  with  them  up  to  that  time.  And 
they  were  dumbfounded." 

From  the  sketch  cited  above,  another  characteristic  feature 
of  Steinberg  is  to  be  noticed.  He  often  places  characters  in 
juxtaposition,  that  affect  or  supplement  each  other,  with  the 
result  that  they  bring  each  other  into  relief  or  exert  a  wholesome 
mutual  influence.  Thus,  the  niggard  and  the  lavish  persons  are 
"well  contrasted  in  "Hezekiah  Kuzner";  the  nobility  of  character 
of  "Leibush  Bulgar"  is  brought  out  by  that  of  his  wife;  fickleness 
and  solidity  of  mind  are  marvelously  typified  in  "Two  Young 
Women."  See  also,  in  this  respect,  "  Shlome  Harif,"  "  A  Groan," 
and  "DanMirsky." 

The  characters  of  Steinberg  are  endowed  with  a  charm  but 
seldom  to  be  met  with  in  modern  Hebrew  fiction, — a  charm  due 
to  a  naivety,  an  integrity  of  belief,  and  an  attachment  to  principle 
— characteristics  with  which  they  distinguish  themselves.  It 
would  be  tautology  to  speak  of  these  traits  when  his  stories  of 
the  life  of  the  Hasidim  are  treated,  inasmuch  as  naivety  is  basic 
in  this  life,  in  its  spiritual  side,  in  the  unquestioned  and  persistent 
belief  of  the  Hasidim,  for  example, -in  the  godliness  and  infalli- 
bility of  their  saints.  It  may  be  pointed  out,  however,  that  this 
quality  holds  good  in  these  stories  not  only  as  regards  the  beliefs 
and  superstitions  of  the  sect  but  also  in  respect  to  their  individual 
life.  For,  here,  too,  it  is  not  the  symbol,  the  mysticism  that 
interests  Steinberg,  but  the  living  personality.  Hence,  the 
Hasidaic  stories  of  this  author  are  equally  distant  from  the 
8  97 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW   LITERATURE 

disparaging  descriptions  of  the  Maskilim  and  the  idealizing  of 
the  symboHsts. 

The  stories  of  Steinberg,  then,  present,  in  one  way,  the  culmi- 
nating point  of  the  evolution  of  individuality  in  Hebrew  fiction. 
There  are  very  few  problematic  natures  among  his  heroes;  and 
the  Weltschmerz,  that  which  expresses  itself  through  individual 
unrest  and  suffering,  has  not  found  strong  utterance  in  his 
characters.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  wealth  of  indi- 
vidualities in  the  works  of  Steinberg;  for  this  author  hardly  ever 
repeats  himself,  hardly  ever  offers  an  old  character  overhauled 
for  a  new  creation.  And  all  this  he  presents  to  us  in  a  style 
lucid,  fluent,  convincing,  without  posing  and  without  the  slightest 
shade  of  mystic  obscurity. 


98 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 
H.   N.  BlALIK 

The  poems  of  Bialik  are  marked  by  pathos,  loftiness  of  con- 
ception, and  artistic  beauty.  Their  pathos  never  degenerates 
into  sentimentaUty,  but  is  of  a  sort  that,  coupled  with  virility 
and  strength  of  expression,  makes  a  Byron  or  a  Victor  Hugo,  and 
wedded  to  seriousness  and  loftiness  of  idealism,  gives  birth  to  the 
preacher  and  the  prophet.  And  Bialik  possesses  these  qualities 
in  a  high  degree.  He  is,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Jehudah 
Halevi — a  Hebrew  poet  of  the  Middle  Ages — the  most  repre- 
sentative Jewish  national  poet,  inheriting  the  pathetic  idealism 
and  the  prophetic  seriousness  of  his  people;  at  the  same  time 
giving  full  expression  to  the  national  grief,  and,  to  some  extent, 
to  the  national  aspirations. 

Bialik's  poems  may  generally  be  divided  into  national  and 
universal,  each  division  presenting  its  own  peculiarities.  In  his 
national  poems,  he  only  at  rare  occasions  tunes  his  lyre  to  a 
joyous  melody.  His  muse  is  not  the  bright  being  of  Goethe's 
poems,  revealing  herself  when  "Der  junge  Tag  erhob  sich  mit 
entziicken,"  and  imparting  to  the  poet  her  cheerful  mood: 
"Sie  lachelte,  da  war  ich  schon  genesen;  zu  neuen  Freuden  stieg 
mein  Geist  heran."     The  Hebrew  muse  reveals  herself  to  our 

poet : 

"In  a  darksome  nook,  in  mournful  mood, 
And  robed  in  garb  of  widowhood." 

It  is  a  woebegone  muse  such  as  this  that  bestows  her  poetic  gifts 
upon  our  Hebrew  poet;  his  national  poems  are,  therefore,  sullenly 
passionate  and  eloquently  pathetic. 

It  is  not,  however,  a  Jeremiah  that  we  discover  in  the  national 
poems  of  Bialik,  one  sitting  on  the  ruins  of  Jerusalem  and  help- 
lessly lamenting  the  desolation.     Nor  is  it  a  paitan  (mediaeval 

99 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Hebrew  hymn  writer)  imploring  the  God  of  Israel  for  revenge 
against  the  enemies  of  his  people.  It  is  the  fire-giving  Pro- 
metheus, rising  to  his  full  strength  and  consciousness  and  tearing 
at  his  shackles,  that  reveals  himself  to  us  in  Bialik's  verse.  It  is 
the  Jewish  genius,  who  had  been  sitting  for  centuries,  silent  and 
hopeless,  on  the  ruins  of  his  people,  but  who  has  risen  when  the 
measure  was  filled  and  the  misery  no  longer  endurable,  and  has 
thrown  the  gauntlet  both  to  man  and  God.  In  one  of  his  finest, 
though  obscurest,  poems,  "The  Fiery  Scroll,"  Bialik  chisels  in 
verbal  marble  the  image  of  this  national  genius: 

"On  the  ruins,  robed  in  pillars  of  smoke,  his  feet  resting  on 
dust  and  ashes,  his  head  weighed  down  with  the  burden  of  grief, 
he  sits,  mute  and  desolate,  gazing  before  him  on  Jerusalem  laid 
waste.  The  wrath  of  the  universe  is  gathered  on  his  brow  and 
eternal  silence  is  congealed  in  his  eye.  And  one  groan,  subdued 
and  deep,  rose  from  the  extremity  of  the  world  and  rolled  along 
and  brake  in  the  silence  of  the  weeping.  It  was  the  heart  of  the 
world  that  brake.  And  the  Lord  could  suppress  his  grief  no 
longer.  And  he  sprang  up,  uttering  a  cry  that  rang  over  all  the 
worlds,  and  broke  away  from  the  ruins  and  came  into  hiding  . . . ." 

Such  intensity  of  passion  and  dark  mood  of  protest  pervades 
almost  all  of  Bialik's  national  poems;  but  they  rise  to  their  highest 
expression  in  the  "Poems  of  Wrath,"  a  series  written  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Kishineff  massacre  in  1903.  For  obvious  reasons, 
the  main  poem  of  the  series,  "In  the  City  of  Slaughter,"  with  its 
three  hundred  lines  of  heroic  verse,  can  not  be  given  here. 
Suffice  it  to  remark  that  for  passion  and  strength  of  expression 
it  can  be  equalled  only  by  the  calamity  it  describes.  An  attempt 
is  here  made,  however,  to  render  the  last,  shorter,  poem  of  the 
series : 

"I  ween  in  weary  night  starlike  will  I  be  extinct, 

Leaving  no  trace  of  my  grave; 
But  fumes  volcano-like  my  wrath  after  me  will  emit, 

When  its  flames  are  subdued 
And  continue  as  long  as  the  thunderbolt  peals  in  the  sky 

And  surges  rage  in  the  ocean. 

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CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

0,  would  that  your  woe  and  distressing  were  treasured  entire 

In  the  bosom  of  earth, 
And  the  wastes  of  the  skies  and  the  wastes  of  the  field,  verdure 

And  stars  therewith  be  watered. 
And  live  therein  and  quicken  them  and  grow  old  and  be  renewed  and 
fade 

And  again  blossom  with  them. 
And  nameless  and  formless  and  landless  the  outrage  ye  suffered, 

Shall  abide  to  the  last  generation 
And  voiceless  to  heaven  and  hell  may  it  howl  and  delay 

The  redemption  of  mankind. 
And  when  at  the  end  of  the  world,  the  sun  of  justice  deceitful 

Will  shine  on  the  graves  of  your  slain, 
And  the  banner  of  falsehood  with  insolence  skyward  will  flutter 

O'er  the  heads  of  your  slaughterers. 
And  the  counterfeit  seal  of  the  Lord  engraved  on  the  banner 

Will  dazzle  the  eye  of  the  sun, 
And  the  haughty  feet  capering  and  jubilee  of  festival  lying 

Will  shake  your  holy  frames  in  the  grave, — 
The  splendor  of  heaven  shall  darken  and  the  sun  shall  be  turned 

Into  a  stain  of  your  innocent  blood, 
Cain's  token  on  the  brow  of  the  world  and  a  token 

Of  the  weakness  of  God's  broken  arm. 
And  each  star  shall  quake  to  his  neighbor:   Here  is  the  terrible  lie; 

Here  is  the  unutterable  sorrow! 
And  the  God  of  revenge,  wounded  and  heartsore,  shall  arise, 

And  go  forth  with  bright,  flaming  sword." 

Bialik  is  preeminently  the  poet  of  the  woe  of  his  people;  to 
the  national  hopes  and  aspirations  he  but  seldom  gives  expression 
in  his  verse.  When  he  does  so,  however,  his  vehemence  of 
emotion  is  transformed  into  majestic  sereneness,  calling,  like  a 
deutero-Isaiah,  for  the  revival  of  his  people,  inspiriting  the 
vanguard  of  the  national  rejuvenation,  and  severely  chastising 
the  sluggish: 

"  Rise,  ye  wanderers  of  the  desert,  depart  from  the  wilderness ! 
The  road  is  still  distant  and  fiercely  rages  the  battle. — Barely 
forty  years  have  we  been  wandering  among  the  mountains,  and 
in  the  sand  have  we  buried  sixty  myriad  corpses.  But  regret 
we  not  the  carcasses  of  the  sluggish,  dead  in  their  slavishness — 
leap  we  over  the  slain !     Let  them  rot  in  their  disgrace,  stretched 

101 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

over  their  packs  which  from  Egypt  on  their  shoulders  they  bore. — 
The  sun  will  rejoice  to  shed  his  rays  for  the  first  time  over  a 
mighty  generation, — Rise,  then,  ye  wanderers  and  abandon  the 
desert. — Every  one  hear  the  voice  of  the  Lord  in  his  own  heart. 
Proceed,  ye  pass  to-day  to  a  new  land ! "  And  when  the  response 
to  the  poet's  appeal  does  not  keep  apace  with  his  impatience: 

"Verily,  grass  is  the  people,  like  unto  a  desiccated  tree! 
Verily,  a  carcass  is  the  people!  For  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is 
thundering  here  and  there,  and  they  do  not  rise  lion-like  and 
they  do  not  stir. — They  are  leaves  fallen  from  the  tree,  moss 
growing  on  a  knoll,  barren  vines,  faded  blossoms.  Will  the 
dew  revive  them?  And  when  the  clarion  will  sound  and  the 
banner  be  raised,  will  the  dead  ones  awake,  will  the  dead  ones 
stir?" 

Bialik  is,  however,  capable  not  only  of  vehemence  of  passion, 
but  also  of  infinite  tenderness.  None  of  the  Hebrew  poets  has 
grasped  and  represented  so  well  the  spirit  of  the  Ghetto  and  its 
poetry  as  he,  and  none  has  shown  so  much  sympathy  and  so 
much  tenderness  of  feeling  for  the  departing  spirit  of  the  Ghetto 
as  he.  Read  his  "On  the  Threshold  of  the  Beth  Hamidrash" 
(the  last  resort  of  the  study  of  sacred  literature  in  accordance  with 
Jewish  tradition),  "The  Midnight  Prayer,"  "The  Talmudic 
Student," — his  first  longer  poem,  by  which  his  fame  was  estab- 
lished,— and  particularly  the  little  gem  of  a  poem:  "In  Soli- 
tude,"— a  lament  of  the  Shechinah,  the  old  spirit  of  the  Ghetto, 
at  being  bereaved  of  her  children,  whom  "the  wind  is  carrying 
off  and  the  light  is  sweeping  away"  one  by  one.  Read  all  these 
simultaneously  with  his  other,  passionate  poems,  and  you  will 
see  how  Bialik  is  capable  of  giving  expression  to  the  whole  gamut 
of  feeling. 

The  poetic  activity  of  Bialik  is,  however,  by  no  means  con- 
fined to  national  themes.  It  is  true  that  for  pathos  and  pro- 
phetic grandeur  one  must  turn  to  his  national  poems;  but  loftiness 
of  conception  and  artistic  beauty  we  can  find  mainly  in  his  other 
verse.  Not  that  he  is  here  infallible.  His  verse  seldom  attains 
the  music  of  a  Poe  or  a  Swinburne;  and  in  his  descriptions  of 

102 


CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

nature  he  at  times  overreaches  himself.  He  is  too  subjective, 
too  much  the  pent-up  child  of  the  Ghetto  let  loose,  communing 
too  eloquently  with  mother  nature.  He  could  hardly  describe, 
at  one  stroke,  a  single  mood  of  nature,  such  as,  for  example,  the 
famous  little  poem  of  Goethe,  beginning  "Auf  alien  Gipfeln" 
presents.  Bialik's  horizon  is  too  expansive  for  a  description 
like  this,  the  flux  and  reflux  of  light  and  shadow  too  rapid  with 
him,  and  his  spontaneity  too  vigorous  and  too  little  restrained. 
He  manifests  in  his  nature  poems  a  wealth  of  delightful  similes 
and  metaphors  and  a  richness  of  glowing  colors  reminding  one 
of  the  Venetian  school  of  painters;  but  these  qualities  sometimes 
mar,  by  their  very  profusion,  the  picture  as  a  whole.  Again,  in 
his  amatory  poems,  though  manifesting  a  good  deal  of  vivacity 
and  delicacy,  he  is  yet  too  playful,  dallying  too  much  with  love 
to  impress  us  with  the  seriousness  of  his  passion.  In  his  series 
of  "Folk  Poems,"  however,  there  are  some  very  beautiful  love 
verses,  of  which  the  following  may  serve  as  an  illustration: 

"Evening,  night,  and  dreary  morn, 

I  raise  my  eyes  to  the  clouds  forlorn ; 
Sweet  clouds,  dear  clouds,  tell  me  true, 
Is  not  my  love  yet  come  to  woo?" 

The  real  greatness  of  Bialik  as  a  consummate  artist  is,  however, 

manifest  in  those  poems  in  which  he  alights  upon  a  central  figure 

or  idea  as  the  theme  of  his  poem.     As  such  are,  among  others, 

"The  Pigmies,"  "The  Lake,"  and,  preeminently,  "The  Dead  of 

the  Desert."     The  first  is  based  upon  the  fairy  tale  of  the 

mountain  genii  digging  treasures  in  the  dead  of  night.     It  is  a 

poem  not  exceeding  seventeen  quatrain  stanzas;  but  in  delicacy 

of  touch  and  harmony  of  rhythm  it,  perhaps,  surpasses  anything 

Bialik  has  written.     He  here  succeeds  in  shedding  a  soft,  dreamy 

light  upon  the  midnight  scene  and  the  dwarfs  at  work,  wrapping 

both  in  delightful  enchantment.     "The  Lake,"  a  description  of 

nature  in  many  moods,  as  reflected  in  the  waters  of  the  lake,  is  a 

masterpiece   both   as   regards   imagery   and   scenery.     Finally, 

"The  Dead  of  the  Desert"  is  a  real  creation  of  genius,  both  for 

grandeur  of  conception  and  magnificance  of  form.     This  poem 

103 


EVOLUTION   OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

is  based  upon  a  Talmudic  legend  concerning  the  last  generation 
that  had  been  in  bondage  in  Egypt,  and  died,  according  to 
tradition,  one  and  all,  in  the  wilderness.  The  Talmudic  legend, 
always  fond  of  exaggerating  the  mental  and  physical  capacities 
of  the  Jewish  ancestors,  represents  the  Dead  of  the  Desert  as 
giants,  whom  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  alone  could  strike  down. 
They  are  stretched,  sixty  myriad  strong,  in  a  secluded  dale 
hardly  accessible  to  mortals,  with  faces  upturned  and  bodies  so 
hardened  by  sand  and  storm  as  to  resist  the  talon  of  the  eagle 
and  the  claw  of  the  lion.  They  are,  moreover,  regarded  as 
sacred;  to  touch  their  property  is  quite  fatal.  And  Bialik, 
taking  up  this  legend,  has  given  it  a  universal  significance,  and 
has  treated  it  with  such  dramatic  power  and  artistic  beauty, 
both  in  description  of  scenery  and  in  majesty  of  verse,  that  the 
poem  may  be  ranked  among  the  masterpieces  of  the  world's 
literature. 

The  poem  is  divided  into  four  main  parts:  (1)  The  description 
of  the  dead  lying  stretched  at  full  length  and  in  their  whole 
strength.  (2)  A  series  of  scenes  in  which  the  kings  of  the  birds, 
beasts,  and  reptiles:  the  eagle,  the  lion,  and  the  serpent,  suc- 
cessively make  vain  attacks  upon  them.  (3)  The  succeeding 
silence  of  the  desert,  followed  by  its  rising,  in  all  its  desolate 
might,  "to  avenge  the  waste"  that  the  Lord  has  imposed  upon 
it,  and  the  simultaneous  rise  of  the  dead,  in  their  grim  titanic 
power,  against  the  decree  that  they  die  in  the  desert  and  be  not 
admitted  to  the  holy  land.  (4)  The  desert  is,  however,  soon 
appeased,  and  the  dead  return  to  their  former  state  of  passivity. 
And  in  the  silence,  there  appears  in  the  distance  an  Arabian  rider, 
who,  detached  from  his  caravan,  is  borne  along  by  his  swift 
courser  in  the  direction  of  the  Dead.  But,  amazed,  he  darts 
back  to  his  companions,  telling  them  of  his  adventure.  Where- 
upon, the  Sheikh  relates  marvellous  stories  regarding  "the  people 
of  the  book."  "And  the  Arabs  listen  and  the  fear  of  Allah  is 
inscribed  on  the  faces.  And  they  pace  leisurely  beside  their 
heavily  laden  camels.  And  for  a  long  time  their  white  turbans 
gleam  on  the  horizon  and  the  hump  of  the  camels  gently  swing 

104 


CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

and  then  disappear  in  the  bright  distance,  as  if  they  bore  hence 
an  ancient  legend  on  their  backs." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  draw  attention  to  the  grandeur  of 
conception  which  is  apparent  in  the  mere  outline  of  the  poem. 
One  scene  will,  however,  be  rendered  here,  that  of  the  attack  of 
the  serpent  on  the  Dead,  a  scene  illustrating  Bialik's  great 
power  of  description: 

"And  then,  when  the  desert  grows  faint  in  the  noon  heat, 
A  tiger  snake,  beam-like,  of  the  serpents  gigantic. 
Crawls  out  to  bask  in  the  sun  the  rings  of  his  tender,  sleek  body. 
Now  he  coils  up  in  the  sand,  lies  still,  neither  moves  nor  breathes. 
All  melting  in  the  softness  and  splendor,  inhaling  the  great  glory  of 

Hght, 
And  now  he  rises  and  stretches,  and  exposes  his  length  to  the  sun, 
Opening  his  mouth  to  his  brilliance,  and  gleaming  in  his  gold  scaly 

coat, 
Like  the  only  spoiled  child  of  the  desert,  fondled  and  caressed,  he 

appears  then. 

Of  a  sudden — up  starts  the  serpent,  darts  from  his  place  and  crawls 
on, 

Gliding,  writhing,  and  shuffling  on  the  face  of  the  sand  heaps,  the 
scorching. 

He  meets  the  array  of  the  corpses,  ceases  his  hissing  and  is  silent; 

Raises  the  third  part  of  his  body,  like  a  column  clad  hieroglyphic. 

Darts  his  crest  forward,  the  golden,  with  neck  stretched  and  won- 
dering eyes. 

Scans  from  extreme  to  extreme  the  array  of  the  foe  in  sweet  slumber. 

And  vast  is  the  army  and  numerous  the  bodies  there  lying  in  repose, 

With  faces  bared  towards  heaven  and  brows  knit  fiercely  and 
frowning. 

And  the  hatred,  the  ancient,  deep  cherished  since  Adam,  up  flashes 

Into  green  flame  in  the  piercing  snaky  twain  eyes,  the  fix6d. 

And  a  quiver  of  ill  passion  thrills  through  him  from  fangs  to  his 
wriggling  tail  tip. 

And  behold  him  eagerly  bending,  wrathful  and  all  aflutter, 
Like  a  rod  of  munition  o'er  the  neighboring  sleepers  suspended, 
His  hydra  head  with  vengeful  designing  and  viper-like  hissing  is 

curved, 
Quivering,  wrathful,  and  glowing  are  the  twain  swarthy  forks  of  his 

tongue. 

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EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Of  a  sudden,  the  serpent  is  startled,  withdrawing  his  body  the  loath- 
some,— 

Startled  by  the  calmness  majestic  and  the  powerful  splendor  in 
slumber; 

Darts  back  his  full  length  and  o'ertopples  and  writhes  aside  and 
moves  onward. 

Hissing  and  hobbling  and  sparkling  in  the  bright  distance,  the 
gleaming. 

And  silence  once  more  is  prevailing;  and  stretched  lie  the  mighty, 
unpestered. 

In  the  poems  of  Bialik  we  find  the  influence  of  Ahad  Ha-Am's 
ideas  and  of  previous  poetic  productions,  notably  those  of  Gordon, 
as  regards  style  and  form.  The  influence  of  the  latter  is,  how- 
ever, traceable  only  in  his  earlier  poems.  When  he  began  to  feel 
the  strength  of  his  own  wings,  his  flight  became  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  any  model.  His  pathos,  the  vigor  of  his  expression, 
his  richness  of  style,  and  the  beauty  and  variety  of  his  meter, — 
all  this  has  greatly  affected  modern  Hebrew  poetry.  His  influ- 
ence has,  however,  been  not  only  literary,  but  also  educational. 
He  has  edited  a  juvenile  as  well  as  a  popular  series  of  books,  has 
simplified  the  Hebrew  Bible  for  the  use  of  beginners  and  pub- 
lished a  classified  and  modernized  edition  of  the  Agadic  legends 
and  sayings,  and  has  done  similar  useful  educational  work  which 
has  served  as  a  model  for  other  writers. 

Saul  Tschernihovsky 

Tschernihovsky  stands  next  to  Bialik  in  importance  in  con- 
temporary Hebrew  poetry.  He  began  his  poetic  career  about 
the  same  time  as  Bialik,  and  he  is  perhaps  the  only  Hebrew  poet 
who  does  not  stand  under  the  influence  of  the  latter,  but  who, 
on  the  contrary,  was  partly  imitated  by  him  in  at  least  one 
respect,  in  meter.  Tschernihovsky  was,  moreover,  the  first  to 
introduce  into  Hebrew  poetry  what  had  hitherto  been  lacking 
therein — enjoyment  of  life  and  an  admiration  for  the  Greek 
spirit.  This  fact  is  due  not  solely  to  temperament,  but  also  to 
education.  For,  while  Bialik  enjoyed  a  thoroughly  Hebrew 
education,  in  the  old  sense  of  the  term,  Tschernihovsky  was 

106 


CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

brought  up  in  a  European  manner  and  far  from  the  pulsating 
life  of  the  Ghetto.  Hence,  the  difference  between  the  two 
both  in  poetic  note  and  in  sympathies.  In  Bialik  the  tone  is 
generally  grave,  dismal,  and,  at  times,  protesting  and  querulous. 
The  erotic  sentiment  does  not  occupy  a  prominent  place  with 
him;  and  if  any  sort  of  enjoyment  is  to  be  found  in  his  poems,  it  is 
only  delight  in  nature.  In  Tschernihovsky,  with  all  his  Jewish 
gravity  of  tone,  there  is  yet  hardly  anything  morose  or  dismal. 
The  enjoyment  of  life  is  complete  in  his  poems.  It  is  keen, 
intense,  comprising  besides  the  joys  of  nature,  also  the  essentials 
of  the  creed  of  every  good  epicurean :  wine  and  women. 

This  consideration  of  difference  between  the  two  poets, — a 
difference  due  to  education  and  environment  as  well  as  tempera- 
ment, may  be  extended  still  further.  Bialik,  brought  up  in 
the  Ghetto,  though  himself,  as  a  modern  man,  renouncing  its 
life,  yet  expresses,  at  times,  a  yearning  for  it,  its  poetry,  its 
moral  grandeur.  Tschernihovsky  has  no  understanding  for  it; 
his  sympathies  lie  far  beyond  it.  This  difference  cannot  be 
illustrated  more  clearly  than  by  citing  the  following  characteristic 
verses  from  the  two  poets  respectively: 

"And  once  more,  my  beth  midrash  (Talmudic  academy),  with  bowed 
head  like  a  beggar  and  desolate  like  thyself,  do  I  stand  upon  thy 
threshold.  Shall  I  weep  for  thy  waste  or  shall  I  weep  for  my  own,  or 
shall  I  mourn  for  both?"  (BiaUk:  "On  the  Threshold  of  the  Beth 
Midrash.") 

"I  have  come  to  thee,  God  long  since  forgotten,  God  of  ancient 
times  and  other  days, — I  bow  before  life,  might,  and  beauty.  I  bow 
before  all  delight,  which  the  carcasses  of  men,  life's  foes,  snatched  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  Almighty,  the  God  of  the  enchanted  desert,  the 
God  who  had  conquered  the  Canaanites  by  storm,  but  who  was  bound 
by  them  with  the  straps  of  Phylacteries — ."  (Tschernihovsky:  "Be- 
fore the  Image  of  Apollo. ") 

This  difference  between  them  is  even  more  strikingly  illus- 
trated by  their  nature  and  love  poems.  In  Bialik  the  erotics 
are  incidental,  imagined  rather  than  experienced;  with  Tscherni- 
hovsky, they  quiver  with  real  life,  and  the  fragrance  of  love  is, 
moreover,  interwoven  even  with  those  poems  that  are  not  pri- 

107 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

marily  erotic.  Again,  the  broad  perspective  in  the  nature  verse 
of  Biahk,  the  unbounded  panorama,  the  "high  heaven,"  the 
abundance  of  Hght  and  brilHancy  of  color,  the  infinite  dehght  in 
nature  and  impHcit  surrender  to  it, — all  this  betrays  the  Ghetto 
child  let  loose  for  the  first  time  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of  nature. 
Hence  he  often  loses  control  over  his  material.  Tschernihovsky 
lacks  all  this  abandon;  his  communion  with  nature  is  a  more 
orderly  one.  For  him  it  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
to  take  a  stroll  in  the  fields,  pick  a  flower  and  put  it  into  one's 
button-hole,  or  make  a  wreath  of  roses  to  adorn  the  tresses  of 
one's  beloved.  No  Ghetto  wall  ever  shut  off  light  from  him  or 
stood  between  him  and  nature.  His  contemplation  of  it  is, 
therefore,  calmer,  though  much  less  exalted  than  that  of  Bialik; 
his  pictures  of  nature,  at  least,  in  one  of  its  moods,  are,  at  times, 
better  rounded  in  themselves.  See,  for  example,  the  following 
beautiful  little  poem  which  has  in  the  original  the  additional 
merit  of  showing  nature  perfectly  at  rest  in  the  first  stanza  and 
changing  to  sudden  movement  in  the  second: 

"Evening" 

"From  the  mountain  sides 
The  shadow  softly  glides. 

Playing  in  the  golden  brook. 
The  ripple  lies  dreaming. 
The  sickle  down  is  beaming — 

Hush  and  silence  in  every  nook. 

The  north  star  flashing  glows, 
Zephyr  gently  blows, 

Warbles  in  the  brooklet  stream 
And  nestles  in  the  rushes. 
Lo!  there  a  cherub  flashes, 

To  heaven  borne  in  a  starry  beam." 

See,  moreover,  such  poems  as  "Splendor"  and  "Nocturno,"  by 
Bialik  and  Tschernihovsky  respectively,  and  the  contrast  will  be 
striking  enough  and  illustrative  enough. 

These  are  the  achievements  of  Tschernihovsky  in  the  domain 
of  Hebrew  poetry :  the  perfect,  well  rounded  picture  of  nature  in, 

108 


CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

at  least,  one  of  its  moods,  the  adoration  of  the  Greek  spirit,  and 
love  as  an  integral  part  of  poetry.  This,  and  something  else :  the 
poetic  form.  Tschernihovsky  entered  Hebrew  literature  almost 
as  a  foreign  element,  bringing  along  with  him  European  influ- 
ences. His  themes  have  now  and  then  a  European  local  color; 
some  of  his  love  poems,  such  as:  "1  Dreamed  the  Lay  of  a 
Nightingale,"  "And  Your  Name  I  Carry  on  the  Wings  of  Song," 
"Everything  Is  Forgotten,"  etc.,  are  distinctly  Heinesque,  and 
in  his  poem  "Ideal,"  unless  it  be  mere  coincidence,  the  influence 
can  be  traced  as  far  back  as  Petrarch.  With  Hebrew  models 
thus  disregarded  and  with  influences  brought  from  foreign 
literatures,  Tschernihovsky  could  not  but  bring  in  a  system  of 
meter  and  rime  not  before  used  in  the  Hebrew.  There  is,  there- 
fore, in  his  verse  a  variety  of  rhythm  wielded  with  so  much  grace 
and  force,  that  even  Bialik  could  not  withstand  their  charm,  not 
to  mention  the  minor  poets.  In  diction,  too,  though  not  so  great 
a  master  of  the  language  as  Bialik,  he  is  yet  more  independent 
of  preceding  models,  his  style  thus  being  entirely  his  own. 

With  this  the  poetic  range  of  Tschernihovsky  is  exhausted. 
His  national  lyrics  and  his  poems  of  protest  distinguish  them- 
selves by  their  beauty  rather  than  by  their  strength  or  pathos. 
Of  his  narratives,  "Mordecai  and  Yoakhim"  possesses  delightful 
humor  interwoven  with  a  satiric  vein,  reflecting  on  conditions 
in  Russia;  "On  a  Hot  Day"  manifests  penetration  into  the  life 
of  the  child,  and  "Baruch  of  Mayence"  distinguishes  itself  by 
its  pathos.  The  last  mentioned  is,  in  fact,  the  most  poetic  of  his 
longer  narratives,  and  this  because  of  its  lyrical  outpourings, 
for  Tschernihovsky  is  essentially  a  lyric  not  an  epic  poet.  And 
though  all  of  these  narratives  are  written  not  without  talent; 
they  are,  on  the  whole,  too  prosy  and  too  unimaginative  to  be 
good  epics. 

In  brief,  the  talent  of  Tschernihovsky  is  supplementary  to 
that  of  Bialik.  He  sings  of  the  man  in  the  Jew,  just  as  the  latter 
sings  of  the  Jew  in  the  man.  He  introduced  into  Hebrew  poetry 
the  sense  of  enjoyment  of  life,  and  he  has  the  merit  of  having 
brought  in  a  variety  of  meter  hitherto  unused  in  the  language. 

109 


EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

Other  Hebrew  Poets 

Jacob  Cohen  is  a  tender  and  impressionable  poet.  He  is  an 
idealist  and  his  verse  is  ethereal,  in  both  of  which  characteristics 
he  resembles  Shelley,  though  his  poems  lack  Shelley's  strength 
and  beauty.  He  displays  some  originality  of  conception,  par- 
ticularly in  the  poems:  "The  Face  of  the  Lord,"  "Concerning 
the  Frogs,"  "Lilith," — the  last  being  suggestive  of  Swinburne's 
"Laus  Veneris."  As  for  strength,  it  is  to  be  sought  in  his  poems 
of  protest,  such  as  "Birionim,"  in  which,  it  may  be  remarked, 
the  influence  of  Bialik,  both  in  rhythm  and  mode  of  expression, 
is  keenly  felt. 

Diametrically  opposite  in  poetic  temperament  is  Z.  Schneer. 
He  is  no  idealist  and  his  themes  are  real  and  palpable.  He  is 
only  indirectly  affected  by  the  wave  of  national  revival.  There 
is,  at  times,  a  gentle  pessimistic  vein  in  his  poems;  one  must  not 
overestimate,  however,  the  sincerity  of  this  gloomy  conception 
of  life  in  a  young  poet  such  as  Schneer,  but  great  margin  should 
be  left,  in  this  respect,  for  the  fashion  of  the  age.  For  true 
pessimism  would  be  quite  irrelevant  to  the  poet's  rapture  in 
the  rays  of  the  sun  and  with  the  passionately  erotic  element  in 
poems  such  as  "A  Confession"  and  "Thus  Do  We  Kiss";  more- 
over, at  least  in  one  pjace  he  plays  the  traitor  to  his  pessimism, 
in  the  "Vision  of  Man,"  where  man  is  foretold  to  conquer  not 
only  nature  but  God  himself,  and  to  become  as  creative  as  he. 
As  for  the  quality  of  Schneer' s  verse,  it  is  full  of  life  and  beauty; 
the  rhythm  has  harmony  and  tunefulness,  the  imagery  is  rich, 
varied,  and  striking,  and  the  movement  quick  and  bold. 

Besides  his  lyrics,  Schneer  has  written  also  a  couple  of  longer 
poems,  in  the  grandiose,  epic  style  and  meter,  a  la  Bialik;  but 
these  have,  on  the  whole,  been  a  failure, — for  Schneer  is  too 
quick  and  buoyant  for  the  epic  style.  His  prose,  on  the  other 
hand,  some  of  which  was  obviously  written  in  imitation  of  the 
liveliest  and  most  playful  prose  writer  in  Hebrew,  Katzenelson, 
is  marked  by  life  and  beauty. 

Of   the   minor    poets — and    their   name   is   legion — may   be 

110 


CONTEMPORARY  HEBREW  POETRY 

mentioned  Jacob  Steinberg,  who  is  rather  dreary  and  mono- 
tonous both  as  regards  meter  and  tone.  A  vein  of  sadness 
pervades  all  his  poems,  the  kind  of  sadness  that  is,  at  least 
partly,  due  to  the  lack  of  real  creativeness.  He  is,  at  times, 
obscure,  symbolistic,  especially  when  necessary  for  purposes  of 
rime  or  meter.  He  has  one  single  master  passion,  love,  a  draft 
upon  the  world  of  emotion,  which  he  changes  into  small  coin, 
some  of  which  have  the  true  ring  of  silver  and  gold,  but  most  of 
them  have  the  hollow  jingle  of  mere  dross. 

If  in  Steinberg  we  find,  at  least,  some  depth  and  seriousness  of 
emotion,  we  look  in  vain  for  them  in  I.  Katzenelson.  This  writer 
is,  as  indicated  above,  the  most  playful  Hebrew  prose  master, 
and  this  playfulness  we  also  find  in  his  poems.  Hardly  one 
serious  mood  or  scenic  description,  hardly  one  serious  sentiment 
do  we  discover  in  them.  His  theme  is  a  tit-bit  of  natural  scenery 
and  a  flitting,  momentary  emotion,  which  are  done  in  a  fanciful 
rather  than  in  an  imaginative  manner.  And  yet,  Katzenelson's 
poems  please  by  their  very  playfulness,  by  their  "nonsense 
verse,"  by  their  lilt,  lightness,  and  jerkiness. 

Katzenelson  has  also  written  some  dramas  of  considerable 
literary  importance. 

Jacob  Fichman  is  more  promising  as  a  critic  than  as  a  poet. 
His  verse  is  elegant  and  his  tone  is  subdued.  He  never  stirs  in 
us  any  deeper  emotion  than  sympathy.  His  descriptions  of  the 
dawn  and  the  twilight  during  the  different  seasons  of  the  year 
possess  more  of  the  quality  of  painting  than  of  poetry;  yet  they 
have  some  perspicuity  and  are  boldly  drawn. 

Thus,  lyric  poetry  has  been  the  strongest  point  in  modern 

Hebrew  literature,  excelling  all  other  literary  branches  in  personal 

expression    and    artistic    workmanship.     In    this    domain,    the 

literary  powers,  at  least  with  the  greatest  representative  of  our 

time,  Bialik,  evolved  out  of  themselves,  hardly  aided  by  any 

outside  influence.     We,  therefore,  have  in  Hebrew  lyric  poetry 

the  highest  expression  of  the  age  both  of  the  individual  and  the 

national  personality. 

Ill 


CHAPTER  X 

RETROGRESSION  AND  PROGRESS 

The  period  of  revival,  that  of  exalted  hopes  and  ardent 
desires,  in  the  eighties,  was  followed  by  a  time  of  gloom  and 
disappointment.  The  Hibbath  Zion  movement  had  been  too 
prodigal  in  promises,  which  it  could  not  make  good.  The  hopes 
that  it  had  aroused  were  not  realized,  and  the  progress  it  was 
making  was  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  Jewish  misery  and  the 
longing  for  self-emancipation  which  the  movement  itself  had 
awakened.  The  young  generation,  imbued  with  national  pride, 
found  the  atmosphere  of  the  Ghetto  too  stifling  and  its  four 
walls  too  narrow  for  their  human  and  national  aspirations. 
They  were  striving  out  into  the  wide  world,  which  was  beckoning 
to  them  and  tempting  them  on,  there  where  one  could  walk  with 
head  erect  and  the  hitherto  pent  up  emotions  be  given  full  sway. 
But  when  they  came  to  that  wide,  tempting  world,  they  met  with 
the  usual  rebuff,  and,  disappointed,  they  had  to  retreat,  with- 
drawing into  their  own  dark  selves.  The  strain  was,  it  is  true, 
relaxed  under  the  influence  of  the  daughter  movement  of  Hibbath 
Zion,  political  Zionism,  which  again  kindled  high  hopes  within 
the  breast  of  the  Jew;  but  this  was  merely  a  momentary  allevi- 
ation, to  be  soon  set  at  nought  by  the  self-refutation  of  the 
movement  and  by  a  consequent  disappointment. 

All  this  has  had  its  undoubted  effect  upon  the  shaping  of 
contemporary  Hebrew  fiction,  notably  the  story  and  the  novel. 
But  there  were  also  other  important  factors  that  contributed  to 
its  make-up.  The  influence  of  Russian  literature  and  the  first 
hand  acquaintance  with  European  thought  and  literary  and 
social  movements  had  an  untold  effect  upon  Hebrew  liter- 
ature. This  acquaintance  was  made  possible  mainly  by  the 
spread  of  the  Russian  Jewish  students  to  the  universities 
abroad — the  Jewish  youth  being  obliged  to  seek  an  intellectual 
refuge  outside  of  Russia,  on  account  of  the  exclusion  laws  in  the 

112 


RETROGRESSION  AND   PROGRESS 

higher  schools  of  that  country.  The  Weltschmerz,  feigned  or 
real,  which  has  found  utterance  in  various  ways  in  Europe, 
coupled  itself  with  the  national  and  the  individual  sorrow  that 
had  been  rankling  in  the  breast  of  the  young  Jew,  and  created 
among  a  number  of  the  contemporary  Hebrew  writers  a  fund  of 
pessimism  which  has,  to  a  great  extent,  made  itself  felt  in  their 
productions.  At  the  same  time,  there  was  brought  into  Hebrew 
literature  the  individualism  of  a  Nietzsche,  scientific  method, 
artistic  taste  and  form,  precision  of  word  and  description,  and 
realism  as  understood  by  Zola  and  Maupassant.  As  for  form, 
the  unsettled  life  of  the  Jew,  particularly  in  Eastern  Europe,  his 
restlessness  and  his  propensity  for  migration,  have  been  favorable 
to  the  short  story  rather  than  to  the  lengthy  novel.  There  has 
thus  been  created  a  Hebrew  story,  artistic  in  technique,  and, 
generally,  psychologic  in  presentation,  delineating  the  individual 
in  a  variety  of  moods  and  situations;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
marked  by  a  minute,  torturing  self-analysis,  by  an  impotence  in 
the  will  of  the  heroes,  and  by  an  outlook  upon  life  that  is  gloomy 
and  despondent. 

A  representative  of  this  class  of  writers  is  Micah  Joseph 
Berditschevsky,  This  author  is  an  opponent  of  Ahad  Ha-Am 
and  his  ultra-nationalistic  ideas,  and  has  almost  succeeded  in 
establishing  a  literary  school  for  himself,  his  writings  having, 
for  the  moment,  caught  the  fancy  of  the  public.  Ahad  Ha-Am 
regards  Jewish  life  from  the  viewpoint  of  the  national  genius; 
even  his  theory  of  the  redemption  of  Israel  is  not  that  of  material 
but  of  spiritual  salvation.  Berditschevsky  revolts  against  this 
apotheosis  of  the  spirit.  Jewish  life  has,  in  his  view,  been  too 
much  narrowed  down  in  the  Galuth,  has  been  reduced  to 
asceticism.  It  is,  therefore,  necessary  that  there  be  "a  revalu- 
ation of  values"  in  Jewish  reality.  The  encroachments  of  the 
spirit  must  be  limited,  and  the  flesh  be  given  its  full  rights  and 
privileges. 

Berditschevsky  has  been  influenced  in  this  view  of  life  by  the 
individualistic  theories  of  Nietzsche, — an  influence  that  is  mani- 
fest in  the  style,  terminology,  and  the  general  tenor  of  his  essays. 
9  113 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

He  has  also  produced  a  considerable  number  of  stories  and 
sketches.  Of  these,  the  portraits  of  the  individuals  of  his  own 
town  are  real  and  vivid;  his  sketches  of  the  life  of  the  Hasidim 
are,  at  times,  striking  in  the  manner  of  their  ending;  his  tales 
based  upon  Jewish  legend,  on  the  other  hand,  are  marked  by 
lack  of  imagination, — and  his  stories  of  modern  life  represent 
that  morbidness  and  minute,  unrelieved  psychologic  analysis 
characteristic  of  the  class  of  writers  above  described. 

One  of  the  most  representative  of  the  pessimistic  group  of 
Hebrew  story  writers,  of  those  who  hold  that  "Life  is  but  an 
empty  dream,"  is  J.  Domoshevitzky,  or,  as  he  is  best  known  by 
his  nom-de-plume,  J.  Bershadsky  (1871-1908).  The  literary 
activity  of  this  writer  expressed  itself  in  two  novels  and  a  number 
of  short  stories.  It  is  the  former,  however,  that  are  the  most 
characteristic,  and,  therefore,  will  be  discussed  in  this  connection. 
Of  these  two  novels,  "Aimless"  was  the  first  published,  but 
anyone  reading  this  and  then  following  it  up  with  "Against  the 
Current,"  the  other  novel  of  Bershadsky,  will  conclude  that  the 
latter  was  the  first  written,  for  in  it  we  find  "Aimless,"  as  it  were, 
in  embryo.  In  "Against  the  Current,"  the  author  broaches  a 
theme,  which  he  defends:  the  vain  endeavors  of  the  Jews  to 
hold  their  own  under  present  circumstances;  and  if  we  want  to 
have  a  real  understanding  of  the  writings  of  Bershadsky,  both 
in  themselves  and  as  being  illustrative  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  we 
must  bear  this  theme  in  mind.  For,  it  is  this  that  determines 
not  only  the  action  and  characters  of  "Against  the  Current,"  but 
also,  in  a  great  measure,  those  of  "Aimless."  As  regards  the 
period  as  well  as  the  characters  with  which  the  novels  deal,  the 
former  serves  as  introductory  to  the  latter,  as  it  seems  to  repre- 
sent a  somewhat  less  advanced  stage  of  the  national  revival,  and 
Sapirstein,  one  of  the  main  characters  in  "Against  the  Current," 
is  the  foreshadowing,  the  prototype,  of  Adamovitz,  who  is  the 
central  figure  in  "Aimless."  Like  the  attitude  of  Adamovitz, 
that  of  Sapirstein  towards  the  revival,  in  fact,  towards  every 
movement,  is  negative,  with  only  this  difl^erence,  that  the 
character  of  the  latter  is  not  yet  so  outspokenly  pessimistic  as 

114 


RETROGRESSION  AND  PROGRESS 

that  of  the  former.  Sapirstein  is  in  a  stage  that  is  nearer  to 
scepticism;  within  him  the  struggle  is  still  going  on.  "The  Jew 
must  not  yield  his  national,  racial,  or  even  his  religious  self,  he 
argues,  as  long  as  these  conceptions  (of  race,  nation,  and  religion) 
still  exist.  This  is  absolutely  clear.  And  yet  he  (the  hero)  is 
not  in  sympathy  with  the  nationalists  and  Palestinians.  He 
does  not  see  any  other  way  out  of  the  dilemma;  and  yet  he 
can  not  acknowledge  that  this  isHhe  right  issue."  This  is  the 
state  of  mind  of  Sapirstein,  who,  by  the  way,  leads,  at  least,  a 
decent  life.  Adamovitz,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  full-fledged 
pessimist,  not  believing  in  any  positive  ideal,  remaining  cold 
and  pessimistic  to  everything  that  surrounds  him  and,  at  the 
same  time,  leading  the  life  of  a  semi-debauchee,  out  of  sheer 
ennui;  and  finally,  not  even  "able  to  die  a  decent  death." 

The  repetition  of  the  same  character  in  both  novels  is  thus 
not  accidental,  is  not  due  solely  to  lack  of  creativeness,  but  is 
indicative  of  the  state  of  mind  of  the  author,  the  state  of  mind  of 
a  whole  class  of  Hebrew  writers.  There  is  one  more  char- 
acteristic feature,  however,  in  these  two  novels, — a  feature 
entirely  Bershadsky's  own,  and  that  is,  his  lack  of  temperament. 
Emotion  plays  a  very  insignificant  part  in  his  writings ;  reasoning 
is  the  motive  power  in  them.  To  this  rationalism  is  partly  due 
the  author's  disparaging  view  of  the  Jewish  revival,  which  is 
really  based  upon  sentiment  as  much  as  upon  reasoning,  and 
upon  the  former  perhaps  more  than  upon  the  latter.  But  this 
rationalism  had  a  further  effect  upon  the  two  novels.  In  the 
first  place,  to  it  is  to  be  ascribed  the  too  bulky  amount  of  dis- 
cussion therein  found.  Again,  it  greatly  mars  the  delineation 
of  his  female  characters.  Adamovitz  and  Bershadsky's  other 
heroes  stand  out  more  or  less  clearly  as  individuals;  Rose  Lipshitz 
and  his  other  heroines  are  quite  hazy,  their  distinguishing  char- 
acteristics depending  almost  entirely  upon  the  degree  of  ration- 
ality or  reasonableness  they  possess.  Finally,  it  has,  in  general, 
a  pernicious  effect  upon  characterization.  There  is  indeed 
psychologic  insight  and  acumen  in  the  individualization  of 
Bershadsky's  heroes;  but  the  process  is  painful  rather  than 

115 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN   HEBREW  LITERATURE 

enjoyable.  The  psychologic  problem  that  a  Peretz,  for  example, 
presents,  the  psychologic  fineness  of  a  Judah  Steinberg,  manifest 
the  joy  of  creativeness.  The  authors  themselves  intently  watch, 
as  it  were,  their  own  heroes  develop.  Bershadsky,  in  opening 
the  secrets  of  the  heart,  goes  about  it  with  the  pitilessness  of  a 
vivisector  and  leaves  behind  an  open  wound.  His  soul  studies 
are,  therefore,  painfully  dry;  they  one  and  all  manifest  an  intel- 
lectual strain,  a  minute  psychologic  laboratory  study.  With  all 
this,  however,  Bershadsky  has  the  merit  of  having  created  at 
least  one  individuality,  Adamovitz,  a  living  personality,  boldly 
delineated,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  expression  of  a  despondent 
class,  probably  a  passing  class  of  Hebrew  writers. 

Lack  of  temperament  can  by  no  means  be  laid  to  the  charge 
of  J.  H.  Brenner.  In  this  author,  sentiment  overwhelms  ration- 
ality; his  works,  therefore,  suffer  from  too  much  sanguinity. 
Brenner  is  a  restless  personality.  His  roving  instinct  has  ex- 
pressed itself  not  only  in  migrations  from  land  to  land,  but  also 
from  ideal  to  ideal,  and  the  further  he  has  gone  in  his  material 
and  spiritual  vagabondage,  the  more  embittered  and  pessimistic 
he  has  become.  He  has  great  strength  of  expression,  his  style 
being  perhaps  the  most  vigorous  in  Hebrew  prose  fiction.  His 
narrative  talent  is  very  considerable,  and  he  has  a  penetrating 
eye  both  as  regards  character  and  manners.  But  it  is  deplorable 
that  his  pessimism  has  of  late  affected  his  writings.  There  is 
now  an  almost  insulting  off-hand  mannerism  in  his  style;  his 
psychologic  delineations  have  grown  into  negative  and  frag- 
mentary water  color  sketches,  and  his  humor  has  been  turned  into 
grim  satire,  whereas  the  journalistic,  controversial  element  has 
found  predominance  in  his  stories  over  the  belletristic. 

The  pessimism  of  J.  Berkovitz  is  neither  so  thoroughgoing  as 
that  of  Bershadsky  nor  so  violent  as  that  of  Brenner.  With  him, 
art  has  gotten  the  better  of  the  gloomy  outlook  on  life  and  has 
toned  it  down  to  a  mere  malicious  whisper.  Yet,  his  heroes  are 
greatly  affected  by  this  mild  pessimism.  Their  individuality 
generally  does  not  stand  out  prominently  by  reason  of  its  own 
merits,  but,  as  in  the  paintings  of  Rembrandt,  it  is  brought  into 

116 


RETROGRESSION  AND  PROGRESS 

relief  by  means  of  the  background.  It  is  circumstances,  the 
society  within  which  the  heroes  of  Berkovitz  find  themselves, 
within  which,  in  fact,  they  feel  all  their  loneliness  and  ennui, 
that  bring  out  their  individuality.  Not  their  strength  of  char- 
acter, therefore,  but  their  weakness,  their  impotence,  is  what 
attracts  our  attention.  They  are  commonly  extinguished  vol- 
canoes, people  in  whom  the  youthful  fire  has  given  out,  who 
have  become  disappointed  in  the  ideals  they  had  cherished, 
but  who  are,  after  all,  out  of  joint  in  the  profane  atmosphere 
that  surrounds  them. 

The  stories  of  Berkovitz  distinguish  themselves  otherwise  by  a 
good  technique,  a  beauty  of  style,  and  a  mild  but  pleasing  humor 
that  has  not  been  uninfluenced  by  that  of  his  father-in-law, 
Shalom  Aleichem. 

Of  the  other  contemporary  writers  of  the  same  school,  may 
be  mentioned  G.  Schofman  and  H.  D.  Nomberg.  The  former 
has  advanced  in  realism  as  far  as  the  pathologic,  and  has  suc- 
ceeded in  stifling  in  himself  all  emotions  of  the  creator.  The 
stories  and  sketches  of  Nomberg  exhibit  less  art  than  those  of 
Berkovitz,  but  his  heroes  present  more  individualization,  their 
personalities  rising  into  prominence  by  virtue  of  their  own 
attributes  and  characteristics.  Yet  the  latter  belong  to  the 
same  category  of  men  and  women  as  the  creations  of  the  other 
authors  of  the  class  described  above.  They  are  individuals 
inactive  and  nerveless,  living  in  a  nebulous  world  of  their  own, 
without  the  power  of  adaptability  to  the  society  around  them 
and  without  the  faculty  of  absorbing  any  bright  rays  that 
radiate  from  the  world  without. 

With  this  class  of  writers,  may  be  contrasted  a  group  of 
novelists  and  story  writers  of  talent,  who  stand  under  the  direct 
influence  of  the  national  revival  and  whose  perspective  is  more 
sunny.  In  the  productions  of  these  writers,  light  and  shadow 
are  fairly  harmoniously  distributed;  the  heroes  are  generally 
healthier  and  more  balanced  and  possess  more  mettle  and 
energy, — and  the  atmosphere  is  charged  with  more  life  and 
activity.     Of  these  may  here  be  mentioned  A.  A.  Kabak  and 

117 


EVOLUTION  OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

M.  Smeliansky.  The  former  is  the  author  of  a  number  of  short 
stories  and  one  novel,  "In  SoUtude,"  the  heroes  of  which  are 
well  defined  and  the  single  incidents  well  presented  but  not 
coordinated  with  sufiicient  skill.  Smeliansky  is  more  talented 
and  more  productive.  He  is  the  most  gifted  of  a  group  of  authors 
whose  talent  has  developed  on  Palestinian  soil  and  in  whose 
creations  the  fresh  fragrance  of  mother  earth  is  felt.  He  has 
written  a  number  of  sketches  of  the  life  of  the  Palestinian  Arabs 
and  some  stories  and  novels  of  the  life  of  the  Jews  of  that  country, 
particularly  those  living  in  the  colonies. 


118 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    FEUILLETON,    LITERARY    CRITICISM,    AND    ALLIED 
BRANCHES;  CONCLUSION 

There  are  some  other  literary  branches,  cognate  to  fiction, 
which  have  found  expression  in  the  Hebrew:  the  feuilleton, 
Hterary  criticism,  the  prose  poem,  etc.  The  feuilleton,  a  literary 
product  originating  with  the  French  and  almost  unknown  in 
English,  made  its  appearance  in  Hebrew  shortly  after  the 
creation  of  the  newspaper;  it  is  only  of  late,  however,  that  it  has 
attained  to  any  sort  of  perfection.  Previously,  during  the  age 
of  the  Melizah,  it  had  run  the  risk  of  degenerating  into  a  mere 
vehicle  for  punning;  for  was  not  the  Hebrew  style  as  a  whole 
simply  a  play  upon  words,  dependent  upon  the  brilliance  of  the 
language  rather  than  upon  that  of  personality?  And  such,  in 
the  main,  the  Hebrew  feuilleton  of  that  time  really  was.  The 
contemporary  feuilleton,  on  the  contrary,  is,  like  the  story 
and  the  poem,  a  real  criticism  of  life,  and,  like  them,  it  is  marked 
by  a  personal  note  and  by  artistic  workmanship  never  before 
known  in  this  domain  in  Hebrew  literature.  In  criticism,  too, 
great  advance  has  been  made  since  the  days  of  Kovner  (see 
supra,  p.  56).  The  Hebrew  has,  to  be  sure,  not  yet  given  birth 
to  a  Taine  or  a  Brandes;  but  there  has  sprung  up  a  good  deal  of 
native  talent,  which,  with  a  better  understanding  of  literary 
principles  and  a  keener  appreciation  of  artistic  values,  exerted 
a  wholesome  influence  upon  Hebrew  letters.  And  corresponding 
progress  has  been  made  also  in  other  directions. 

Of  the  numerous  writers  in  the  various  branches,  only  a  few 
names  can  here  be  mentioned  and  the  briefest  notice  given 
them: 

The  talent  of  David  Frishman  is  not  confined  to  the  feuilleton 
alone,  but  extends  likewise  over  the  domains  of  story,  poetry, 
and  criticism.  Yet,  his  writings  are  assigned  a  place  here, 
because  it  is  in  the  feuilleton  that  he  really  excels;  in  fact,  the 

119 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

spirit  and  tone  of  this  kind  of  literary  production  dominate  all 
his  works. 

Frishman  has  never  directly  identified  himself  with  the  national 
revival  movement;  he  is  too  Mephistophelian  for  that.  He  is 
essentially  an  iconoclast,  and  were  it  not  for  the  considerable 
esthetic  taste  that  he  possesses,  his  cynicism  would  have  gotten 
the  upper  hand  in  his  writings.  It  is  this  taste,  plus  a  dash  and 
brilliancy  of  style,  that  has  been  his  saving  grace.  For  he  dis- 
plays neither  depth  nor  originality  or  creativeness  in  any  of  the 
literary  branches  in  which  he  has  engaged.  In  his  stories  there 
is  almost  a  total  lack  of  imagination;  they  are  set  down  with  skill, 
but  they  are  inventions,  not  creations.  His  lyrics  are  deficient 
in  sincerity,  and  his  ballads  exhibit  an  imitation  of  Heine  both 
in  form  and  treatment.  In  his  criticisms  there  is  some  taste 
and  insight,  but  there  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  lack  of  constructive 
power  and  they  are  exercised  with  a  good  deal  of  malignity.  His 
portraits  of  men,  of  literary  and  other  notabilities,  particularly 
as  regards  their  foibles  and  ludicrous  sides,  are  vivid  and  recon- 
structive. In  all  these,  however,  there  are  to  be  found  the 
characteristic  squint  and  smack  of  the  feuilleton ;  for  this  is  the 
proper  domain  of  Frishman.  In  his  feuilletons,  the  poignancy 
and  brilliancy  of  style  stand  him  in  good  stead,  lending  him  an 
air  of  originality  and  giving  animation  to  his  remarks  and  criti- 
cism of  life,  however  trite  and  superficial  they  be. 

Different  in  tone  from  the  feuilletons  of  Frishman  are  those  of 
A.  L.  Levinsky.  Those  of  the  former  approach  the  satiric  essay; 
they  lay  hold  on  a  subject,  exhaust  it,  lay  bare  all  its  foibles,  and, 
strike  home  caustically  at  all  weak  points.  The  feuilletons  of 
Levinsky  are  formed  of  lighter  stuff.  They  are  humorous 
rather  than  satiric;  they  are  a  criticism  of  life  without  the  sting 
and  bitterness  of  censure.  They  generally  do  not  grapple  with 
one  subject  only,  but  deal  with  life  as  it  is  reflected  in  passing 
events  and  transitory  occurrences,  connecting  all  these  into  one 
whole,  not  so  much  by  means  of  a  central  idea  as  by  a  suggestive 
phrase  or  expression.  Their  humor  is  peculiarly  Jewish;  the  racy 
Talmudic   diction,   the   good-natured,   familiar,    conversational 

120 


CONCLUSION 

style,  and  the  well-feigned  naivety  of  the  provincial  Jew, — all 
these  are  employed  by  Levinsky  with  great  effect.  In  short, 
Levinsky  is  the  typical,  characteristically  Jewish,  feuilletonist. 

The  feuilleton,  as  well  as  criticism,  has  been  manipulated  with 
some  skill  also  by  N.  Sokolov;  but  neither  of  these  rises  with 
him  above  the  level  of  drawing-room  talk.  He  is,  however,  the 
greatest  Jewish  journalist  writing  for  Jews;  at  any  rate,  he  is 
the  typical  journalist,  fluent  and  ubiquitous,  writing  in  several 
languages  with  equal  ease  and  on  every  subject  within  the 
range  of  the  article  and  the  essay:  social,  political,  and  literary. 
His  style  is  as  protean  as  his  writings ;  it  is  plastic,  easily  adapting 
itself  to  the  nature  of  the  latter,  though  somewhat  crude  and 
unpolished.  His  knowledge  is  extensive,  and  he  has  a  good  deal 
of  common  sense  and  a  quickly  assimilative  power. 

One  of  the  finest  stylists  in  Hebrew  is  R.  Brainin,  whose  diction 
is  brilliant,  though  exhibiting  a  good  deal  of  posing  and  seeking 
after  effect.  Brainin  displayed  great  activity  in  various  literary 
branches:  journalism,  the  story,  criticism,  and  biography.  His 
journalistic  writings  are  of  no  great  value  and  his  stories  are  the 
work  of  an  amateur.  As  regards  his  criticisms,  they  have  con- 
tributed their  mite  towards  the  placing  of  certain  authors  in 
Hebrew.  On  the  whole,  however,  his  literary  ideas  and  tastes 
are  dictated  by  outside  influences  to  such  an  extent  as  to  be 
rather  misleading  in  some  cases.  For  the  critical  principles  in 
vogue  in  European  literatures  cannot  always  be  applied  to  the 
Hebrew,  without  leaving  margin  for  racial  and  circumstantial 
differences.  And  Brainin  does  not  always  take  this  truth  into 
consideration.  It  is  mainly  in  biography  that  this  writer  really 
excels.  He  is  the  Boswell  of  Hebrew  literature,  dogging  his 
Johnson  at  every  step,  and,  in  this  manner,  throwing  light  not 
only  upon  his  life  but  also  upon  his  times. 

Joseph  Klausner  is  the  disciple  of  Ahad  Ha-Am,  judging  things 
from  the  point  of  view  of  his  master's  precepts.  He  possesses 
marvelous  erudition  and  a  certain  amount  of  historic  insight; 
but  he  exhibits  hardly  any  originality  of  thought.  He  is  active 
in  many  fields:  critical,  historical,  journalistic,  making  a  mark  in 

121 


EVOLUTION  OF  MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

them  all.  And  if  in  his  criticisms  he  does  not  penetrate  to  the 
real  essence  of  the  literary  creations,  his  opinions  are  yet  generally 
suggestive. 

Of  the  younger  critics,  J.  Fichman  is  very  promising.  There 
is,  it  is  true,  too  much  circumstantiality  and  temperamental 
effusion  in  his  critical  works;  but  out  of  them  emerge  a*  fine 
artistic  taste,  a  great  power  of  analysis,  and  a  more  than  a  medi- 
ocre reconstructive  ability. 

The  prose  poem  has  been  essayed  by  many;  but  none  has 
been  so  successful  in  it  as  H.  Zeitlin.  This  writer  has  been 
largely  influenced  by  Nietzsche,  like  whom  he  seeks  God  in 
man;  he  is  pathetic,  emotional,  and  a  great  weeper.  There  is  a 
good  deal  of  coquetry  in  his  writings,  which,  however,  contain  a 
great  deal  of  beauty.  He  has  also  written  a  number  of  philo- 
sophic essays  and  has  contributed  to  the  understanding  of  the 
life  and  doctrines  of  the  Hasidim. 

In  this  book,  the  author  has  endeavored  to  trace  the  evolution 
of  Hebrew  literature  from  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century 
to  our  own  time,  in  its  relation  to  Jewish  history  and  to  the 
foreign  cultures  and  literatures  amidst  which  it  grew  and  by 
the  tendencies  and  ideas  of  which  it  was  influenced.  In  this 
course  of  development,  Hebrew  literature  has  made  marked 
progress  in  all  directions.  From  a  meandering  streamlet,  for- 
gotten by  the  inhabited  world  and  underfed  by  rains  and  dews 
from  heaven,  it  has  broadened  out  into  a  lordly  river,  swelled  by 
tributaries  and  constantly  gaining  in  depth.  In  point  of  art, 
there  has  been  an  advance  both  in  expression  and  in  representa- 
tion of  the  subject,  [n  the  observation  and  appreciation  of 
nature,  too,  immense  gains  have  been  made.  As  for  char- 
acterization and  the  manifestation  of  the  personal  element  as  a 
whole,  there  has  been  a  veritable  "revaluation  of  values."  The 
movement  has  been  going  on,  to  use  a  Spencerian  phrase,  from 
the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous,  the  differentiation  and 
individualization  taking  place  both  in  the  creations  and  in  the 
the   authorsmselves,   in   their   manners   and   mannerisms,   and 

122 


CONCLUSION 

in  their  forms  of  expression.  Hebrew  literature  has  indeed 
travelled  a  great  distance  from  the  novels  of  Mapu,  where  the 
heroes  are  mere  embodiments  of  ideas,  of  virtues  and  vices, 
without  even  representing  types,  to  the  stories  and  sketches  of  a 
Steinberg,  with  their  varied  and  highly  individualized  char- 
acters, and  from  the  class  sentiment  of  the  Maskilim  to  the  very 
personal  equation  in  the  contemporary  literary  productions,  as 
influenced  by  Nietzsche's  "superman." 

A  word  as  to  the  future  of  Hebrew  literature.  For  many 
reasons,  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  progress  of  this  literature  in 
times  to  come  is  quite  legitimate.  It  is  true  that  the  Hebrew 
is  the  heritage  of  an  eleven-million-headed  people,  that  it  has  a 
history  of  thousands  of  years,  and  that  it  has,  moreover,  advanced 
considerably  for  the  last  half  century.  All  this,  however,  cannot 
serve  as  an  indicator  of  its  further  progress  in  the  future;  for 
there  are  many  causes  that  work  against  it  in  our  own  time — 
causes  that  threaten  its  very  existence.  In  the  first  place, 
Hebrew  is,  after  all,  a  language  understood  by  comparatively  few 
of  the  Jews,  and  spoken  by  still  less.  Then,  again,  it  is  every- 
where exposed  to  the  unequal  competition  of  the  native  lan- 
guages, which  constantly  encroach  upon  its  territory,  just  as 
they  encroach  upon  that  of  the  Jewish  vernacular,  Yiddish. 
What,  then,  is  the  future  of  Hebrew  literature?  What  are  its 
hopes  of  maintaining  itself  with  such  odds  in  its  disfavor? 
When  the  Hebrew  poet  Bialik  recently  visited  Palestine,  he 
was  asked  how  it  was  that  he  had  not  given  his  people  a  poem 
which  should  embody  the  national  aspirations  of  the  nation  and 
nerve  it  to  self -activity.  He  answered:  "It  is  for  you,  Pales- 
tinian Jews,  who  are  in  the  process  of  building  up  a  new  national 
life,  to  give  us  Jews  of  the  diaspora,  whose  national  existence  is 
in  the  state  of  dissolution,  this  song  of  national  revival."  May 
not  the  reply  of  Bialik  serve  as  a  key  to  the  problem  of  Hebrew 
literature?  In  the  western  countries  Hebrew  is  doomed  to 
extinction;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Hebrew  is  even  now  semi-extinct 
in  western  Europe  and  in  America.  For  no  culture,  however 
elastic  it  be,  can  for  long  preserve,  under  modern  conditions,  its 

123 


EVOLUTION   OF   MODERN  HEBREW  LITERATURE 

integrity  in  the  midst  of  other  cultures,  which  are  upheld  by 
life  and  circumstances.  It  is  in  Palestine,  where  a  young  Jewish 
national  life  is  now  striking  root,  budding  out  and  unfolding 
itself  in  all  directions,  particularly  the  cultural,  that  Hebrew 
literature  will  ultimately  have  to  seek  refuge.  There,  in  the 
land  of  its  birth,  opposed  by  no  vigorous  foreign  culture,  Hebrew 
will  be  able  to  work  out  its  future  destiny,  provided  the  course 
of  its  development  is  not  cut  short  by  some  external  intervention. 


124 


INDEX 


Abramovitz,  Shalom  Jacob,  33,  34, 

75,  76,  77,  78,  83 
Against  the  Current,  114 
Ahabath  Zion,  19,  20,  23 
Ahad  Ha-Am,  86,  87,  88,  89,  90,  106 
Ahavath  David  U-Michal,  46,  47 
Ahiasaf,  89 
Aim  of  the  Arts  and  Their  Function, 

The,  69 
Aimless,  114 
Alas  Brother,  47 
Alexander  II,  25 
Am  Olam,  60 
Amulet,  The,  90 
Ashmath-Shomeron,  20,  21,  22 
^sire  Ha-Tikwah,  44 
Asnath,  Daughter  of  Potifera,  47 
^ss's  Burial,  The,  63,  65 
Aj/i/  Za6w,  21,  22,  32,  33 

Balzac,  19 

Baruch  of  Mayence,  109 

Before  the  Image  of  Apollo,  1 07 

Beginning  and  End  of  a  Quarrel,  The, 

39 
Ben-Avigdor,  89 
Berditschevsky,  M.  J.,  113 
Berkovitz,  J.,  116 
Berlinites,  7,  note 
Bershadsky,  J.,  114,  115,  116 
Bialik,  H.  N.,  99,  100,  101,  102,  103, 

106,  107,  108,  109 
Bird  in  the  Cage,  The,  44 
Bird  uyith  Clipped  Wings,  The,  44 
Birzian,  The,  35 

Blessing  of  the  Righteous,  The,  52 
Book  of  Schnorrers,  The,  77,  79 
Brainin,  R.,  57,  121 
Brandstaedter,  M.  D.,  31,  38 
Braudes,  R.  A.,  34,  35,  38,  41 
Brenner,  J.  H.,  116 

Calf,  The,  90 
Charitable  Man,  The,  94 
Cohen,  Jacob,  110 
Confession,  A,  110 

Criticism,  Biblical,  30;  literary,  55, 
119 

David  and  Barzilai,  47 

Dead  of  the  Desert,  The,  103,  104,  105 


Dolitzky,  M.  M.,  68,  71,  72 

Domoshevitzky,  J.,  114 

Dan  Mirsky,  97 

Drama,  42 

Dunash  Ibn  Labrat,  4 

Edim  Neemanim,  18 
Emeth  We-Emunah,  42,  43 
Erter,  Isaac,  32 
Eth  Laasoth,  60 
Extremes,  The,  36,  37 

Fables,  52 

Faith  and  Knowledge,  16,  17 

Father  and  Son,  95 

Feierberg,  Mordecai  Z.,  90,  92 

Feuilleton,  The  Hebrew,  119 

Fichman,  Jacob,  111,  122 

Fiery  Scroll,  The,  100 

Folk  Poems,  103 

Folk  Stories,  94 

Frishman,  David,  119,  120 

Fuenn,  S.  J.,  28 

Gebirol,  Ibn,  3 

Gilgul  Nefesh,  32 

Ginsbm-g,  A.,  86 

Gogol,  8,  note 

Goldenblum,  29 

Gordon,  Judah  Loeb,  31,  40,  46,  51,  55 

Gottlober,  A.  B.,  31,  40,  43,  44 

Graveyard,  The,  52 

Groan,  A,  97 

Ha-Aboth  WeHa-Banim,  33 

Ha-Boker  Or,  31,  45 

Ha-Dath  WeHa-Hayyim,  34,  36,40 

Ha-Karmel,  28,  29 

Halevi,  3 

Ha-Maggid,  12,  27,  28 

Ha-Meliz,  28,  29,  30 

Ha-Ozar,  28 

Ha-Shahar,  30,  31,  58,  59 

Hasidism,  18,  32,  92 

Haskalah,  5,  6,  7,  24;  Poetry  of,  42; 

the  Berlin,  60 
Ha-Toeh  BeDarkey  Ha-Hayyim,  63, 

64 
Ha-Zefirah,  28,  29 
Ha-Zofeh  LeBeth  Yisrael,  32 


125 


INDEX 


Hebrew  Language,  8,  9,  11,  61 

Hebrew  Literature,  division  of,  1 ;  evo- 
lution of  post-Biblical,  8;  Galician 
Period  of,  6,  7;  German  Period  of, 
4;  growth  of,  1;  Mishnaic,  9; 
Modern,  14,  122;  Renaissance  of, 
in  18th  Century,  3;  Spanish  Period 
of,  2;  Spirit  of  Talmudic,  2;  the 
Revival  Period  in,  67;  the  future 
of,  123 

Hebrew  Poetry,  Contemporary,  99; 
Greek  spirit  in,   106;    Lyric,   111 

He-Haluz,  30,  31 

Heker  Dabar,  56 

Helpless  Wrath,  45 

Heritors  of  Pharaoh,  The,  93 

Hezekiah  Kuzner,  97 

Hibbath  Zion  Movement,  58,  59,  68 

Hokmath  Yisrael,  6,  7,  14 

Homunculus,  81,  82 

In  Solitude,  118 
In  the  City  of  Slaughter,  100 
In  the  Dark  of  Night,  90,  91 
In  the  Depth  of  the  Ocean,  47 
In  the  Jaws  of  the  Lion,  51,  52 
In  the  Moon  at  Night,  52,  53,  54,  55 
In  the  Valley  of  Weeping,  81 
In  Those  Days,  82 
Influences,  Russian,  25 
Inheritance,  The,  63,  65 
Investigations  into  the  Origin  of  the 
Karaites,  44 

Jewish  Happiness,  46 

Joel  and  Sisera,  17 

Joy  of  the  Wicked,  The,  62,  65 

Kabak,  A.  A.,  117 

Kabbalah,  3,  18 

Kabbalah  arid  Hasidism,  45 

Kankan  Hadash  Male  Yashan,  56 

Kathrilevke,  85 

Katzenelson,  L,  111 

Kehal  Refaim,  46 

Kishron  Ha-Maase,  46 

Klausner,  Joseph,  121 

Kovner,  A.,  56 

Krochmal,  N.,  7 

Lake,  The,  103 

La-Yesharim  Tehillah,  4,  43 

Lebensohn,  Abraham  D.  B.  (pseu- 
donym, "Adam"),  7,  15,  42 

Lebensohn,  M.  J.,  15,  17,  42,  46,  69 

Lermontov,  8,  note 

Le-Toledoth  Ha-Shir  WeHa-Melizah, 
44 


Levinsky,  A.  L.,  120 
Lewin,  Judah  Loeb,  45 
Lilienblum,  M.  L.,  31,  46 
Lilienthal,  M.,  7,  note 
Literature,  Yiddish,  34 
Luzzatto,  M.  H.,  3,  4,  43 
Luzzatto,  S.  D.,  88 

Man6,  M.  Z.,  68,  69,  70 

Mapu,    Abraham,    18,    19,    22,    32; 

Characters  of,  20 
Mare,  The,  82 
Maskilim,    5,    16,    26,    58,    59,    67; 

Antagonism  to,  26 
Maupassant,  113 
Meassef,  4 

Meassefim  Period,  5,  6 
Melizah,  11,  33 
Mendele  Mocher  Sefarim,  77 
Mendelssohn,  Moses,  4 
Metman,  Dr.  Leo,  13,  note 
Midnight  Prayer,  The,  102 
Migdal  Oz,  43 

Mordecai  and  Yoakhim,  109 
Mordecai  Kizavitz,  40 
Mordecai  Kizler,  96 
My  Request,  71 
My  Sister  Ruhamah,  52 
Mysteries  of  Paris,  Translation  of,  19 

Nationalism,  Jewish,  31 
Neo-Hebrew,  12,  13 
Newspapers,  Russo-Jewish,  25 
Nicholas  I,  25 
Nietzsche,  113 
Night  of  Terror,  A,  93 
Nomberg,  H.  D.,  117 
Novel,  The  Hebrew,  15,  18 

Of  the  Songs  of  Zion,  45 
On  the  Ruins  of  Zion,  71 
On  the  Threshold  of  the  Beth  Hami- 
drash,  102 

Paperno,  A.  J.,  56 
Peretz,  I.  L.,  93,  94,  95 

Pictures  of  Travel,  93 

Pigmies,  The,  103 

Pisarev,  48 

Poems  of  Wrath,  100 

Poetry,    Lyric,    16;    Narrative,    16; 

Nature,  16,  69 
Point  of  a  Yod,  The,  48,  49,  51 
Pouskin,  8,  note    . 
Pride  and  Overthrow,  63,  65 


Rabbinics,  10 
Rabchik,  84 


126 


INDEX 


Rabinowitz,  Shalom,  75,  83,  84,  85 
Rapoport,  S.  J.,  7 
Reason,  Adoration  of,  43 
Reforms,  Religious,  25 
Revival,  National,  59,  61 
Reward  of  the  Virtuous,  The,  64 
Rime,  3 

Romanticism,  15,  47 
Rubin,  Solomon,  31 
Russian  Literature,  Influence  of,  25, 
51,  112 

Schneer,  Z.,  110 

Schofman,  G.,  117 

Schorr,  J.  H.,  30 

Schulman,  Kalman,  19 

Science,  Jewish,  6,  7 

Shalkowitz,  89 

Shalom  Aleichem,  83,  85 

Shapiro,  C.  A.,  68,  72,  73,  74 

Shire  Tifereth,  47 

Shlome  Harif,  97 

Sidonia,  or  the  Broken  Heart,  39 

Sifre  Agorah,  89 

Silberman,  27 

Slonimsky,  H.  S.,  29 

Smeliansky,  M.,  118 

Smolenskin,  Perez,  31,  57,  62;  novels 

of,  66,  67 
Socialists,  46,  note 
Sokolov,  N.,  121 
Sonnet,  The,  4 
Steinberg,  Jacob,  111 
Steinberg,  Judah,  95,  96,  97 
Sue,  Eugene,  19 

Talmudic  Student,  The,  102 
Terminology,  of  Philosophy,  10;   of 

Grammatical  Science,  10 
This  is  Not  the  Way,  87 
Thus  Do  We  Kiss,  110 


Tifereth  Li-BenefBinah,  43 

To  the  Stars,  17 

Translations,  52 

Travels  of  Benjamin  III.,  The,  82 

Tschernihovsky,  Saul,  106,  107,  108, 

109 
Tschemishefsky,  48 
Turgeniev,  8,  note 
Tushiah,  89 
Two  Josephs  Ben  Simon,  The,  48,  50, 

51 
Two  Young  Women,  97 

Uncle  Shachna  and  My  Aunt  Yahna, 
93 

Vision  of  Man,  The,  110 

Visions  and  Errors,  72 

Vocabulary,  10 

Voice  is  Singing  in  the  Window,  A,  44 

Voice  of  the  Lord,  The,  45 

Wars  of  David  with   the   Philistines, 

The  47 
Werbel,  E.  M.,  17 
Whence  and  Whither,  36,  38 
Whither,  90,  91,  92 
Who  Am  n,  94 
Whose  Dawn  Art  Thou?,  72 
With  our  young  and  our  old  we  shall 

go,  52 

Yehallel,  45 

Yosele  Yeshibah  Bahur,  94 

Zedekiah  in  the  Guard-House,  51,  60 
Zederbaum,  Alexander,  29 
Zeitlin,  H.,  122 
Zeror  Perohim,  56 
Zionides,  71 
Zola,  113 


127 


VITA 

I  was  born  on  July  14,  1874,  in  Yanovo,  Government  of  Kovno, 
Russia.  I  received  my  early  education  in  a  Hebrew  School  and 
a  Talmudic  Academy;  at  the  same  time  studying  Russian  and 
German  privately.  I  came  to  America  in  1896,  where  I  engaged 
first  in  manual  labor  and  then  in  the  teaching  of  Hebrew.  In 
1898  I  entered  Harvard  University  as  a  special  student,  and  in 
1901  I  became  a  regular  student  there.  I  devoted  myself  chiefly 
to  the  study  of  the  Semitic  Languages;  but  I  also  took  courses  in 
German,  French,  Latin,  Greek  and  history.  I  was  graduated 
from  there  in  1902,  with  honors  in  Semitics;  but,  because  of  my 
inability  to  make  the  necessary  payments,  the  degree  of  B.A. 
was  not  conferred  on  me  before  1906.  Between  1904  and  1911 
I  attended  Columbia  University — in  the  aggregate,  six  terms 
— devoting  my  studies  to  Semitic  Languages,  Philosophy  and 
Sociology. 

Abraham  Solomon  Waldstein. 


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